


Old Habits

by randomdork11



Series: Headmaster Snape [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drinking & Talking, Drinking with friends, F/M, Friends to Enemies, Minerva and Severus friendship, and then back again, because it's what I do best, old habits, stresses of teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2019-09-03 00:09:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 87,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16797505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomdork11/pseuds/randomdork11
Summary: Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall have a long standing tradition that cannot be stopped. Though other professors come and go the two Heads of House routinely meet by the staff room fireside on Friday nights to cope with the struggles of teaching at a magical school filled with teenagers.A few chapters of one-shots on the friendship of McGonagall and Snape.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay if someone could come and tell Minerva McGonagall that she is not in control of my brain that would be great. Until such a time, I present 8 chapters of fluff and angst between the friendship that I ship more than any actual relationship in this fandom. My goal is to post a chapter a week for the next 7 weeks, but with the end of term, holidays, and general craziness that may not happen. So here's to plot driven madness that keeps me from finishing my other stories. Hope you guys enjoy!

It had long been the habit of the two Heads of House to meet in the staff room on Fridays for a session of venting and a few drinks. On several occasions throughout the years other staff members had attempted to join in, but none had managed to hold on to the habit.   
  
The meeting began on Severus's second week as a new professor at Hogwarts. As the youngest on staff and a former classmate of many that he taught, the young man experienced several setbacks. Added on to the fact that he was a member of the Order of the Phoenix and a Death Eater in Voldemort's inner circle, it came as no surprise the young man spent the first few weeks of his career in a perpetual bad mood.  
  
It was in the second Friday of the new term that Minerva found him in the staff rooming glaring at the fireplace. Despite the feelings of mistrust that lingered around the new professor, the older woman couldn't leave him in such a black mood.  
  
"So how have your first two weeks gone?" She asked pulling the young man's attention to her as she sat in the armchair next to his.  
  
"Splendid," Severus answered with a glance in her direction.  
  
Noting the sarcasm that bit through his answer, Minerva couldn't help her smile. "That bad then?"  
  
"Slughorn’s left them so far behind," he spat never taking his eyes off the fire. "it will be a miracle if I can get any of them on track before they graduate. And the first years..."  
  
Taking pity on her colleague, Minerva decided it was about time to introduce him to the proper ways of Hogwarts. "Sounds to me like it's time for you to take part in the oldest of teaching traditions Severus."  
  
"And that would be?"  
  
With a wave of her wand a bottle of Ogden's finest and two glasses appeared on the table between them. "Getting knackered on Friday night, relaxing on Saturday to work through the after effects, and regretting your life choices on Sunday."  
  
Unless Minerva was mistaken, the corner of Snape's mouth pulled up ever so slightly at that.  
  
"Sorry McGonagall, I don't touch the stuff," he answered without a trace of humor in his voice.   
  
"Give it another week or so and you'll acquire a taste," Minerva answered with a wink. Pouring herself a glass she noted that despite his cold voice and off-putting body language, something about the young professor seemed to be begging her to stay. Maybe it was the gleam in his eyes as she joked with him or the way his sour expression had melted into something kinder as she spoke. Whatever the reason, she decided it wouldn't kill her to spend this one Friday evening drinking with company.  
  
“I think I’ll pass McGonagall,” Severus intoned as she slid a glass over to him.

“You’ll think differently after a couple and it’s Minerva now Severus. We’re colleagues now, might as well act like it,” she responded as she picked up her own glass. “Now which students are giving you a hard time?”

Severus fixed her with a long calculating look before picking up his glass and taking a sip. Knowing the strength of the whiskey she’d sat in front of him, Minerva was pleasantly surprised to see a lack of reaction in the young man’s expression. Perhaps there was hope for the young Potions Master after all.

“The simpler question would be which students aren’t giving me trouble,” he finally answered turning his gaze back to the fire.

“Fine then, which students aren’t giving you trouble?”

This time there was no denying the slight upward tug of his lips into what, might soon become, an actual smile. “Well the first and second years are thoroughly intimidated.”

“So, I’ve heard. You frightened poor Bill Weasley to death earlier with your talk of accidentally poisoning himself and his peers if he didn’t stop acting foolishly.” Despite herself, Minerva felt a smile of her own tugging her lips.

“Then I made the proper impression,” Severus responded before downing his glass in a single gulp.

“And yet you’re finding it difficult to suitably intimidate older students?”

“It is difficult when the older students remember you as a student yourself.”

“Yes, I imagine that would be rather the challenge.”

“Not helped by the fact that your bloody Gryffindors still worship the ground Potter and Black walked on. They at least seem determined to drive me mad.”

A frown quickly took the place of her previous good mood. “Any specific names you need me to deal with?”

Surprise flitted across Severus’s face before an apparently iron-clad will forced it away. “You’d condemn your precious Gryffindors?”

“I’d condemn any student who refuses to respect one of his or her professors. Especially those from my own house.”

“Thank you… Minerva,” Severus responded with a nod.

“Of course. I’ll have a talk with all of them tomorrow. If they’re still giving you grief after that, let me know. I’m still dealing with trouble makers attempting to take the places of Potter and Black,” fondness born of several years of teaching such students seeped into Minerva’s words. “As fond as I am of those two, they really were too much for the school to handle at once. I dread the day we see another duo like them.”

Severus snorted. “You’re telling me.”

A comfortable silence permeated the room as the two companions refilled there glasses once more. Severus fixed his eyes on the crackling of the fire, but the older professor could tell she still retained his full attention. The boy she remembered had a similar ability to pay rapt attention while he was seemingly far away.

Comparing that teenager to the young man who sat beside her, forced Minerva to realize that yet another of her wards had grown into themselves. Severus remained awkward and unsociable, but there was a surprising strength to him these days that hadn’t been present when he last roamed these halls. Rumor throughout the Order was that the young man had not truly turned from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s side. Rumors helped along, no doubt, by a certain duo of trouble makers that held a long-standing vendetta against Severus.

Yet the former Death Eater still had not engendered himself any trust from the other members. In truth, Minerva refrained from placing too much faith in a young man so entrenched in darkness and hatred. The only reason she’d been civil to him thus far had been at Albus’s behest. However, sharing drinks tonight with Severus Snape felt right. It felt as if she might actually be making some headway in the game of shadows that surrounded the world at the moment.

“You know there’s a Quidditch match coming up soon,” Severus drawled slowly, pulling the older woman from her thoughts. “I’d hate for you to put your players in detention and force them to miss the match.”

Minerva blanched, unless she was very much mistaken Severus Snape had just made a joke. A joke veiled in a threat, veiled in information concerning those students troubling him. But a joke, nonetheless.

“They’d only be stuck in detention for the match if they truly deserved it,” she answered in kind.

“Well we’ll have to see if we can’t help them earn it,” the young man replied in kind. “I’d hate for Slytherin to be at a disadvantage because their team members spent more time in detention than those of Gryffindor.”

“That would imply that Slytherin wasn’t already at a disadvantage.”

A true smile graced the young man’s face at that before being quickly pulled into a sneer. “Perhaps I will acquire a taste for this awful stuff after all,” he said as he placed his glass back on the table. “Thank you, Minerva.”

“Of course, Severus,” she smiled in return. “Same time next week?”

A brief nod was her only response, but it was enough to begin a long-standing tradition between the two.  



	2. Colleagues, Trolls, and Quidditch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s up party people! Despite it being a ridiculously crazy week, I managed to crank out chapter 2 of this story. I’m really trying to stay dedicated to this once a week mentality, you guys. On a side note, I wasn’t certain if Halloween was on a Friday during year one and I didn’t want to go back and look because it would completely ruin my mood for part of this section. So, please excuse that little bit of timeline escapism. Hope you guys enjoy!

Weekly meetings soon turned their Friday nights into a long-standing habit. Before long Minerva and Severus would seek out the others company by the light of the staff room fire. Even during the summer months, the two companions would strive to meet up at least every other week. While they would never become anything more than casual friends, each found comfort in ranting and complaining to the other after long weeks of teaching the masses.   
  
However, the first Friday of this year was certain to be different than any other before it. Harry Potter had finally arrived at Hogwarts.   
  
The staff sat around the lounge for hours gossiping about the Boy-Who-Lived and the rest this year’s haul of eleven-year-old children. Between Flitwick’s tittering and Vector's obnoxious tandem about her latest article on some branch of arithmancy, Minerva found herself longing for the solitude and company of her most bitter friend.   
  
Scanning the staff room, she spotted Severus glaring darkly into the fireplace and knew that he, at least, was unimpressed with the boy wizard who'd taken the rest of the castle by storm. Considering the boy’s uncanny resemblance to the potion master’s past arch rival, Minerva couldn't exactly blame him. Everyone else it seemed to take the solitary man's black mood as a sign to stay as far from his as humanly possible. The faculty still lingering in the lounge gave wide berth to both Severus and the rather inviting fire place.  
  
Disengaging herself from another frustrating conversation with Quirrell, Minerva made her way over to her favorite armchair. "Is this seat taken?" She quipped as she sank into said seat.  
  
The glare Severus had turned on everyone else, softened ever so slightly when cast in her direction. But only slightly.   
  
"The staff is certainly stirred up this evening," he drawled. A lazy flick of his wrist procured a bottle of scotch and their usual glasses.   
  
Knowing full well that no one would be stupid enough to interrupt this meeting, Minerva took the liberty of pouring them both a healthy serving.   
  
"In case you hadn't noticed Severus," she began, "we do have a bit to talk about this year."  
  
The older woman felt the corner of her mouth twitch as Severus's glower deepened even further. Taking his glass in hand, Severus emptied the contents in a single go before pouring himself another glass. "Ah, yes. Saint Potter has arrived," he growled. "I'll trust you'll forgive me for not leading the parade in his honor.   
  
"Severus," Minerva scolded, "what kind of parade would it be without our friendliest staff member at the forefront?" She was relived, to see the slightest quirk of his mouth in the direction of an almost smile. Perhaps if things went well -and they consumed enough liquor - she could draw him out of his current mood. "What did you think of him?" Minerva asked unable to contain her curiosity.  
  
"Too much like his father," Severus mumbled. Some unpleasant emotion scouring his face too quickly to properly dissect.   
  
Surprise wormed through Minerva at such a statement. "You really think so?"  
  
"Why else would I have answered as such?"  
  
"It's just odd. I was understandably apprehensive to have James Potter's son roaming these halls. Heaven knows we had enough of his mischief while he was here! But Harry seems so very different. More like his mother."  
  
Sarcasm bit at his reply. "Yes, because Lily was so often arrogant, conceded, and on the look out for trouble."  
  
"Oh quiet your old prejudices Severus. The boy isn't arrogant or conceded in the slightest. And if I remember correctly, Lily got herself into enough trouble without the aid of her Gryffindor counterparts."  
  
It seemed that her original plan had backfired almost immediately. Still hoping to pull him from his depressive thoughts Minerva attempted another tactic.  
  
Leaning over in a conspiratorial fashion she lowered her voice so that no eavesdroppers could overhear. "Is it just me or does Quirrell seem off this year?"  
  
"You mean there was a time when he acted normally?" Her companion quipped curtly never taking his eyes off the fire.   
  
"He seems jumpier than normal and the starter that's new too."  
  
"Didn't he supposedly have some kind of run in with some creature or another day whatever country he was in over the summer?" Snape asked with a bored sigh. Yet something about his countenance led Minerva to believe he wasn’t saying everything he knew.  
  
"For someone so observant and meticulous you really have a knack for missing important bits of information," she observed. Taking another sip from her glass, she leaned back into her seat.  
  
"Quirrell wasn't even on my radar until Albus asked me to keep an eye on him."  
  
There was the news she'd been waiting for. "You're watching him?"  
  
Severus shot a long calculating look into the silence stretching between them. As the two sat the staff room began emptying as one by one the other professors deemed it to be too late to continue socializing. Tracing his lips with a long finger, he chose his next words very carefully.  
  
Finally the Potions Master relented. "He's an oddball who's begun acting more odd in the span of a few weeks." If she hadn't known him for so long, Minerva wouldn't have caught the stilted hesitation in his words. As if he wasn't completely certain he should trust her with such insight. A thought which irritated her to no end. If Severus couldn't trust her by now, the he couldn't learn to trust anyone. Cutting into her inner monologue he continued. "I expressed some concern to the Headmaster and he asked me to keep a watchful eye on the situation."  
  
A quick glance around the room assured Minerva that the staff room had almost completely emptied during their latest discussion. Only a half drunk Trelawney remained in the back corner humming to herself.   
  
“You think he's up to something?” Minerva whispered.  
  
“I think it would be a grievous mistake to not at least entertain the possibility.”

A chill in complete contrast to the warm room raced down her spine. Without allowing any trace of her discomfort to show through her expression, Minerva allowed her thoughts to wander. It must be serious if Severus had been concerned enough to bring his observations to the Headmaster. She’d always found Quirrell to be a bit strange and quirky, but it was those traits that made him such a good fit for Hogwarts. Here they were all a bit off in some fashion or another.

Yet she couldn’t deny that she’d grown concerned over her colleague’s drastic personality change after the summer holidays. He’d always been a bit nervous and jumpy, but now he was down right paranoid. Quirinus had made even Severus look practically trusting these past few weeks. The man never left his back to the room and he wore that ridiculous turban religiously. Since his return Minerva had yet to see it removed from his head.

Then there was his new stuttering issue. Something that shouldn’t be possible overnight. In the past the man had stumbled over his words often and had quite the reputation concerning his inability to speak properly in high stress situations. However, that didn’t explain the drastic change in his speech pattern.

Thinking back on Severus’s earlier remark, she could recall that something supposedly traumatic had happened to Quirinius over the summer holidays. But for the life her Minerva couldn’t recall the exact details surrounding the incident. Needless to say, the head of Gryffindor found herself secretly glad that Severus was keeping an eye on the shifty man.

Apparently, she’d thought of Severus too many times in a row. A subtle clearing of his throat brought Minerva’s attention back to her seated companion.

“So, what conclusion have you come to Minerva?” Severus queried. The fire glinted off his black eyes creating a rather sinister effect that was only enhanced by his quiet tone. “Am I a poor colleague for keeping tabs on my fellow staff members, or…”

He allowed the sentence to hang in the air. Though his question seemed innocent enough, Minerva could see the slightly tense set of his shoulders and the way he leaned forward ever so slightly in anxiety. Severus dreaded the idea that she might condemn him for spying on those he should consider friends.

But she’d known the boy beside her for too many years. Severus didn’t have friends. He had acquaintances and people he respected. He even had those he treated with something almost resembling kindness. But he didn’t have friends. Not anymore.

Therefore, it was easy for Minerva to forgive him his paranoia this time. “I think it wise to observe those acting strangely with no known cause.”

Tension drained off Severus as she spoke. Knowing he wasn’t condemned by someone he so respected seemed to put the boy at ease. “Well in that case,” Severus continued in a lighter tone than she’d heard from him all evening, “perhaps I ought to start keeping tabs on the odd tabby cat I run into so often on my nighttime patrols. Bloody beast is a nuisance at best.”

The slight mirth and mischief that glinted in his eyes floored Minerva. He looked years younger – or perhaps he simply looked the age he was – while bantering back and forth with her. Not one to miss out on exchanging barbs, she responded in kind. “You’ll do no such thing. The cats keep the mice away.”

He raised an eyebrow in her direction. “Cats? I was under the impression that it was only Mrs. Norris allowed to roam the halls. Surely we shouldn’t allow such flea ridden creatures to roam the halls.”

“Are you bitter towards everything that brings others joy?”

“Of course not,” he mocked. “I just tend to hold a deep dislike of other those things which annoy me. People and animals tend to run in that vein, with few exceptions. The odd tabby cat that keeps following me isn’t one of those exceptions.”

“Maybe you have a fan Severus.”

“More like an overly protective nuisance.”

Taking the hint, Minerva merely shot a wink in his direction. She’d continue following him during those evenings he seemed to be unable to find sleep. If only so that he didn’t have to deal with such evenings alone. Heavens knew the boy needed a friend. 

  
  
***  


  
"A fully grown mountain troll Severus. They took on a full-grown troll!"   
  
He'd never known McGonagall’s voice could be so shrill. Watching the woman pace before the fire in the staff room he realized- not for the first time - just how terrifying the Head of Gryffindor could be.  
  
"And to drag Weasley and Granger into it as well!" The woman continued. "Because I don't for one second believe that she was the instigator of that little venture. Not even the Weasley twins would have attempted something this stupid!" McGonagall had reached a new peak of frantic anger. Her hair was becoming disheveled and winding its way out of the tight bun it normally occupied. "I daresay not even Sirius and James would have pulled something like this. Though they might have cheered the bloody boy on."  
  
"Yes," Severus spat unable to control his vitriol at the mention of his two former tormentors, "it seems that neither his godfather or father could hold a candle to the famous Harry Potter."  
  
The mad woman's pacing stopped at the obvious venom in his voice. "I know you dislike the boy Severus, but, recent events withstanding, I've found him to be a rather engaging and sweet kid. Very little like his father at the same age. And certainly better behaved. Most of the time," she amended with a huff of her old fury.  
  
"Unless of course you take note of his brashness, arrogance, and lack of respect," snorted Snape.  
  
"Perhaps if you weren't so hard on the boy-"  
  
Minerva remained one of the few people he respected without any doubt, however he couldn't allow her to continue in this manner. They’d been through this discussion many times before tonight and he couldn’t take another lecture on the Boy-Who-Lived. "Sorry, but I'll not be bowing down or catering to the famous Harry Potter. I will treat him the same as every other student regardless of the fact that the wizarding world seems to believe he hung the moon."  
  
"Severus, surely you see the difference between catering to a child and cutting students some amount of slack. Not every student who walks through your door need be afraid of you for you to garner respect," Minerva responded wisely.  
  
"Says the sternest woman on staff."  
  
"Stern. Not terrifying. They can respect you with being frightened."  
  
"Experience says differently."  
  
"Says the man who turned coat on the most frightening wizard of our age," she responded throwing his previous comment back in his face.  
  
Severus didn't know how to answer that. Because she had a point. He'd hated the two men in his life who used fear to rule. In comparison to Albus Dumbledore, who believed love was the answer to all problems and that second chances were deserved by anyone willing to give it a shot, there was no question to who he'd place his trust in. Yet in his experience people who feared you left you alone.  
  
As a child he'd been terrified of his father and had done all within his power not to draw the man's ire. It had certainly led to hatred, but he'd rarely crossed the man. Potter and Black had bullied him until Lucius's backing gave him others to rely upon. When they realized he wasn't alone, they attacked him less frequently.   
  
No, life might allow for some to choose sternness or familiarity to help them gain respect, but if experience had taught Severus anything it was that being feared garnered respect just as quickly and usually had a more lasting effect.  
  
His response was slow and soft. "I can't allow them to think anything else of me. You recall my first few years here. They were nightmares. Now students walk into my room for the first time too scared to even consider trying anything. Those that do swiftly discover why they shouldn’t. No, Potter won't get any leniency from me."  
  
Minerva fell into her usual armchair with an undignified grace that somehow suited her. "You're about as stubborn a man as I've ever met."  
  
"I take that as a compliment," Severus answered while turning his attention back to the fire. "Now I don't know about you, but I came here to drink and forget this horrific day."  
  
Something too close to understanding passed Minerva's face. "Do you think Potter even knows what today is?"  
  
"Doubtful," Severus said with a s shrug as he sank back into his armchair attempting to allow the warmth of the fire to overtake the cold pit in his heart. Halloween was always difficult. This one was no different.   
  
And just like that the black mood that had plagued him all week returned with a vengeance. Downing his fourth glass of fire whiskey, Severus poured himself yet another helping.  
  
Eyeing him carefully Minerva raised her glass. "To James and Lily."  
  
Feeling a lump forming in his throat, Severus inclined his glass ever so slightly. "To Lily at least."  
  
Drowning themselves in yet another Friday night, the two sat in companionable silence.  
  
***  
  
Minerva burst through the door in a fury unlike anything he'd ever seen. Briefly he wondered how the Dark Lord would have fared if he'd been under Minerva McGonagall's tutelage. Surely, she would have stomped any latent ideas of rebellion out of him early on.  
  
"You're the referee for the next Quidditch match?" She asked anger lacing every syllable.  
  
Allowing a smug air to settle about him he cocked an eyebrow at his companion. "Problem?"  
  
"You don't even like Quidditch Severus!"  
  
"I haven't missed a match since I started teaching," he replied before conceding under her glare, "or at least I haven't missed many matches."  
  
"You've no experience and you despise flying."  
  
"Yes, but I'd hate for our young Mr. Potter to face another close call like he did in the previous match. Or did you miss the part where he was almost bucked off a cursed broomstick?"  
  
"This is absurd!"  
  
"You're absurd," he huffed.  
  
"Severus Snape, if you purposefully cost us this game or the Quidditch cup, I will personally make your life a living hell for the rest of term," she put as much force behind her words as possible.

For a moment, the young man who’d faced her wrath as a teacher shuddered. Yet on the surface his face remained as blank and uncaring as ever in the face of her ire. "I'm actually trembling,” he snorted sarcastically. “Now are you here for a drink or did you simply come to berate me?"  
  
In what could only be counted as a victory the older woman flicked her wand causing the usual two glasses and a bottle of elf made wine to appear between them. Offering his own form of peace, Severus poured them both a glass.  
  
"I told you you'd acquire a taste," Minerva smiled as he slid her a glass.  
  
"Yes, well your company is the only exception to my aversion of the insipid drink."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you guys enjoyed! I don’t mind throwing in a few prompts if anyone has an idea for the following chapters. I’m planning one per year, so feel free to let me know. See you guys in the next chapter!


	3. Morons, Mandrakes, and Flying Cars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the two week wait in between chapters this time. Life got super crazy last week, and I barely had time to breath let alone write. But break is officially here, so I can focus on playing catch up! Thank you guys for your patience! I hope to have the next chapter up soon, so that I can be back on track with this story by next Friday. But just in case, I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas!!

Technically, they were breaking tradition by meeting the first night of term. Though it wasn’t a Friday night and they both had classes tomorrow morning, Potter’s little stunt warranted such a meeting. After Severus’s words with the headmaster, Minerva knew the Potions Master would be in need of a drink. Badly.

“A bleeding flying car, Minerva!” the aforementioned Potions Master spat as he paced in front of the staff room fireplace. “Those two morons flew a car from King’s Cross, across the bloody country, and into the Whomping Willow. Even worse they survived said trip. Yet despite being seen and breaking the secrecy code on top of breaking an untold number of school rules, the only punishment they receive is a handful of detentions. How is that right?”

Black robes billowing behind him, Severus didn’t break stride once as he carried on with his tirade. He’d worked himself into a fine mood this time.

“You’d rather them be expelled?” Minerva asked curiously, taking a sip of fire whiskey.

“As if the Headmaster would actually allow you to expel the Boy-Who-Lived,” he snorted.

If he was calling Dumbledore by title instead of name, then they were in serious trouble this time. In an attempt to coral her companion’s anger, Minerva replied, “well we’ll certainly insure that their detentions are highly unpleasant. Perhaps we can have them sit in the dungeons and prepare potion ingredients. No, that won’t work,” she sighed factiously. “You’re far too cheerful a professor for that to be any sort of punishment for them.”

Her comment stopped his pacing long enough for Severus to shoot her a glare that might have made any other staff member wither. Minerva on the other hand merely chuckled. “Severus, the boys are here, they’ve been handed their punishment, and their both duly chastened. Why don’t you sit down, have a drink, and come up with some other way to make Potter’s life miserable.”

Her own anger over Potter’s latest misadventure had ebbed away in the face of her colleague’s sheer outrage. Few things could stir Severus’s ire like Harry Potter. Whatever antagonism existed between the two had only grown over the summer months. Severus had been rather put out at the end of last year when Potter’s rule breaking had led Gryffindor to victory over Slytherin. And though Minerva wished the two would find some form of common ground, it seemed unlikely that that would happen this year.

Severus mumbled something snarky along the lines of “duly chastened until they get to their common room,” before giving in to Minerva’s demands and slumping into his chair.

After downing two shots of Rosemerta’s finest fire whiskey, the Potions Master let his glower fall to the fire. “It’s day one Minerva.”

“Barely even that,” she responded with a shake of her head. “It’s going to be a long year.”

“A very long year indeed.”

***

“Well isn’t this just a lovely sight of inner house companionship,” came a voice that made both professors sigh.

A shared look of long suffering passed between the Heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin as their least favorite DA teacher strolled into the staff room. The pompous man sat himself primly in the armchair furthest from the fire place. The seat allowed Lockhart to be in the center of the room – his preferred spot – and yet close enough to the fire that it cast his face in dramatic lighting. Or at least that’s how he’d explained it to Minerva last week.

“Good evening Gilderoy,” said Minerva with a tilt of her head. The fine line that her lips now formed, the only indication that she was displeased with the turn of events.

While Minerva tended to hide her complete disdain for Lockhart behind curt comments and stern glares, Severus preferred a more direct approach. Biting sarcasm that flew over the witless man’s head. “I see you’ve deigned to grace us with your presence once again. How thoughtful.”

The idiot smiled in return. “Yes well, fame is a fickle thing. But I do so enjoy sharing mine with any who appreciate it.”

“I’m happy to find myself so fortunate,” Severus growled in a voice that earned him a stern look from Minerva.

Lockhart, however, was completely oblivious as usual. “I must say, I am rather enjoying this break from the danger and excitement of my normal life. You professors really have it quite easy.”

A dark joy filled Severus as Minerva’s lips fell into possibly the thinnest line he’d ever seen at that particular comment. She could berate him all she wanted for not watching his tongue around the new Defense teacher, but her own ire had gotten her chastised by the Headmaster a time or two as well.

“Yes,” came the waspish response from Minerva, “we’re always happy to know we have the simple job of molding the minds of the future.”

“It is why we entered the field after all,” Severus added, unable to help himself. “Though it must be terribly boring for someone as acclimated to dealing with dark forces as you.”

Still oblivious to the danger of his words, Lockhart shot what he must imagine to be a dashingly handsome smile at the two professors. “I have to admit to finding myself wishing for a bit of excitement every now and then. As you said, I’m accustomed to things far more dangerous than the students of Hogwarts.”

The other man’s superior look at that comment sent waves of fury through Severus. A shared glance with Minerva told him that she wouldn’t stop whatever tirade he was about to embark on. The dark joy that had filled him earlier returned viciously.

“Yes, of course,” Severus sneered, “what are a few Zonko’s products to battling something as devilish as say… Cornish pixies?”

Finally, a bit of embarrassment flushed Lockhart’s cheeks. Severus shot a bemused smirk at Minerva who rolled her eyes in turn. However, the impossible man’s ego didn’t stay beaten for long. “Nothing more devilish than those little buggers,” replied Lockhart with another award-winning smile. “Nasty tempers and tricky to a fault.”

Fixing the newest professor with a stern look that would have sent most running, Minerva stated. “Perhaps then it was unwise to unleash them on a classroom of second years.”

Though it seemed that Lockhart, once again, found himself exempt from that category. “Oh please, Minerva they were with me,” he assured. “Surely you’re not concerned about the students while they’re in my care.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it Lockhart,” Minerva answered sharply.

Severus felt the corners of his mouth tug in the direction of a smile as Minerva implemented sarcasm in the exact manner she’d berated him for earlier.

“Please Minerva,” Lockhart began, “it’s Gilderoy now. We are colleagues after all.”

“Of course, Lockhart.”

The Defense professor’s infallible smile slipped into annoyance for half a moment before bouncing back into its normal annoying state. “Well, I’m afraid there’s only one of me to go around, so I must bid you both a goodnight.”

“Leaving so soon?” Minerva asked in false concern.

“I did promise to explain to Professor Sprout the proper manner in which to repot mandrakes. But I’m certain we’ll see each other soon,” he replied with a pompous wink that insinuated things Severus did not wish to think about.

“I’m sure Pomona will be delighted with your insight,” Severus chimed in.

As Lockhart shut the door behind him, Minerva poured herself a tall glass of liquor and downed it in one shot. “That poor woman.” Despite years of bitterness tempering his smile into a non-existent state, Severus found that he could not contain the small grin that slid across his face. Seeing his obvious humor at her expense, Minerva shot him a scowl. “Not a blasted word Severus.”

***

For once the staff room was completely quiet despite being filled to capacity. The professors of Hogwarts sat in the silence that tonight's events had created as they awaited the Headmaster. Severus and Minerva had, rather begrudgingly, led Lockhart to the staff room while Dumbledore took his caretaker to the Hospital Wing. Filch was in dire need of a calming draught after finding Mrs. Norris in such a cruel manner.

Severus and Minerva took their usual places by the fireplace, while Lockhart seemed content to pace the middle of the room in order to look important. The Potions Master tuned out Lockhart’s muttering of how best to handle the current situation or who could possibly be at fault.

“You don’t seriously believe Potter had a hand in this do you?” Minerva huffed from beside him.

“I think it’s in the boy’s nature to be as close to trouble as possible,” Severus sighed unwilling to have this particular argument right now.

“Then why implicate him at all?” her voice was quiet, but loud enough for those closest to realize that the head of Gryffindor was fuming.

“I didn’t implicate him, Minerva, I simply stated the facts. Potter didn’t tell us everything,” Severus responded carefully and quietly. He’d seen something troubling in Potter’s mind but wasn’t certain yet what it could possibly mean. Leaning in so that only she could hear him, Severus weighed his next words with caution. “He’s hiding something and whatever that is, it doesn’t bode well. Especially not with all of the rumors that are about to remerge with the Chamber and Slytherin’s monster.”

Whatever Minerva’s response might have been was cut off by Dumbledore’s entrance. She shot a significant look at Severus that informed him this conversation was far from over, but for the time she dropped it.

The normal twinkle that seemed to permanently exist in the Headmaster’s eyes had been banished by the seriousness of the situation. His grave face told the staff all they needed to know about his concerns. Even Lockhart stopped pacing and leaned back against the wall to listen to Dumbledore’s words.

“I am sorry that this Halloween must be passed in such grave tones,” Dumbledore began, “but the events of tonight must be discussed among us, so that there is no confusion concerning our stance on this matter. At present, there is no proof or reason to believe that the Chamber of Secrets has in fact been opened. However, we will be taking every possible precaution necessary at this time. Your nightly patrols will be increased and I ask that everyone use caution and remain vigilant. Do not take any unnecessary risks.”

Pomona Sprout was the first to take a stab at the silence that dictated the room after Dumbledore’s speech. “Albus surely you don’t believe the chamber has actually been opened again?” 

Dumbledore visibly weighed his response. “I believe that it would be irresponsible for us to proceed without addressing the seriousness of the situation be it real issue or merely a distasteful prank. This school is still marred by the events that transpired the last time the Chamber was opened,” at his words, the hulking figure of Hagrid seemed to shrink into himself. “While I do not wish to cause panic, I believe we should treat this incident as a very real threat. Otherwise, we set ourselves up for something far worse.”

Dumbledore let his gaze fall on each of his professors before speaking again. “You will each be prodded with a thousand questions from curious students about the Chamber of Secrets from this day forward. I would ask that you answer these questions as honestly as you can, but with the knowledge that any answer you provide will be spread among the student body by the end of the day. I would ask that you answer such curiosities with respect to the rest of the staff and those souls that remain on grounds.”

“Should we even answer such questions Albus?” Flitwick squeaked from his spot at the back of the room.

“If we do not, students will find the answers elsewhere. They are a resourceful bunch,” the ever-present twinkle returned to the Headmaster’s gaze for the briefest of moments before severity restated its claim on those blue eyes. “You know your classes better than anyone else, I’d ask that you treat the students with the respect they deserve and answer them as you deem fit. If any of you hear of students claiming this to be their idea of a prank, I urge you to come to me at once.

“Until such a time as we have something further to discuss, you are all dismissed. You will be notified of your evening patrol duties tomorrow. Good night.” With that the ever-calm man left the room giving a significant look to the two professors sitting closest to the fire.

“Cryptic as ever,” Severus heard Vector grumble as she and Filius led the way out of the staff room.

After setting up an appropriate time in the morning to discuss the growth of mandrakes with Sprout and ignoring Lockhart’s insistence that he would help brew or cultivate the mandrakes in whatever way he could, Severus found himself alone with his drinking partner. Slouching into his armchair, the potions master loosed a heavy sigh.

“How long are you going to remain angry at me Minerva?” he asked quietly.

Minerva didn’t respond immediately. An unusually tense silence filled around them as the older woman made up her mind. “Until you’ve properly apologized.”

“Then you’ll be waiting for quite some time,” Severus snapped.

Which of course fed into the angry fire that was Minerva McGonagall’s temper. “You accused an innocent boy of something terrible Severus. Surely that warrants some feeling of guilt from you.”

“I didn’t accuse anyone of anything. But Potter is hiding something and if history serves right then it will be something crucial.”

“So instead of pulling the boy aside and asking him about it, like a rational human being, you decide to pin Filch’s ire on him?”

Minerva’s fury flared in full force as she defended the young man who found himself in her care. Though she hid it well, she was just as terrified as the rest of the staff. Unlike them though, her fear turned to anger and determination, the full force of which were currently directed at the Potions Master who’d dare threaten someone from her house.

“When are you going to put aside this ridiculous animosity towards the boy, Severus?” she spat.

“When he’s proven himself to be more than a self-absorbed brat,” Severus replied in kind.

While Minerva’s anger turned into a billowing rage, his own fell into something far colder and dangerous. He respected Minerva a great deal, but that respect had limits and having his actions concerning Potter called into question certainly surpassed those limits.

“He’s not James,” Minerva informed coldly. “It might be hard for you to understand that, but he’s not.”

Something cold twisted in the Potions Master’s gut. “I’ve no problem discerning between the two. What I do have a problem with is your, and everyone else for that matter, decision to put the boy on pedestal he doesn’t deserve.”

“No one has him on a pedestal Severus. And if they think highly of him it’s because he’s earned it,” Minerva roared, rising to her feet.

Severus joined her. Yet as her voice grew louder, his grew softer. “By completely disregarding all rules set in place to keep him and his idiotic friends safe? Or do such rules only apply to lesser beings than a Potter?”

“He’s earned it by disregarding his own safety in lieu of aiding others.”

“You mean by sneaking past that hell hound and protecting a stone that didn’t need any further protection?”

“By facing off against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and winning twice.”

“Both times because he was protected by someone else! Not because of any merit of his own. The boy is an arrogant brat who’s gotten lucky twice at the expense of witches and wizards far greater than him.”

“You’re blinded by your own prejudice.”

“And you by your belief that one twelve-year-old child is more important than any of the others.”

They stood toe to toe, breathing heavily, and glaring at one another. Their tenuous companionship holding on by a few threads as it was threatened by their differing views.

Minerva broke the tension first speaking in an unyielding tone, “Potter is no more important than any of the other children at this school. However, he has earned the respect he gained from me. Just as so many before him have. Perhaps you ought to consider the fact that there are students outside of Slytherin that might also be worth your time and respect.”

“Duly noted,” Severus snarled. Realizing that they would not find any sort of common ground tonight, Severus left the staff room in a few long strides. Their unused glass forgotten on the table.

As his long robes billowed around him, the Potions Master descended once more into the dungeons, lamenting that he would never find a normal friendship again.

***

Despite their fight a few weeks previously, Minerva and Severus found themselves returning to their normal habit almost immediately. Admittedly, the first Friday had been rough and awkward, but they’d settled back into their rhythm soon enough. It seemed that Harry Potter would always divide them, but it secretly delighted both to know that their companionship could survive a few harsh words and disagreements.

“He removed all of the bones in the boy’s arm!” Minerva huffed as she fell into her chair.

The two companions sat stiffly in their armchairs this evening. A day full of Quidditch mishaps and a terrified student body having thoroughly exhausted them both.

“Ah, if only I’d been there to see it,” Severus lamented.

“Oh, don’t be petty Severus, this whole thing is ridiculous enough without your animosity towards Potter getting in the way.”

Severus feigned a look of hurt, “you mean you think I’d harbor ill feelings towards the star of the Gryffindor Quidditch team? I’m hurt Minerva. I though we knew each other better than that.”

Thankfully Minerva settled with rolling her eyes at the Potions Master. “When you first arrived here, I’d never have expected you to be quite so competitive concerning Quidditch.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Severus asked innocently. A look that was completely dispelled by the glint of mischief she could see in his dark eyes as he inclined his head toward her.

“You allowed Lucius Malfoy to buy his son’s way onto the team in order to get better brooms than any other house, you attempted to monopolize the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin on some ridiculous notion of training the same boy, then you make multiple attempts to remove Potter from the Gryffindor team.” Minerva announced counting off his supposed sins on her fingers. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d accuse you of playing favoritism.”

Severus sneered as he dropped his own trump card, “says the woman who may or may not have illegally purchased a Nimbus 2000 for the student she had placed on the Gryffindor team. Hark," is that hypocrisy I hear rearing its head?”

The hard stare he received in return only solidified Severus’s enjoyment.

“Back to the actual point,” Minerva continued as if the previous discussion hadn’t occurred. “Lockhart is an absolute travesty.”

“For once we find ourselves in complete agreement,” replied Severus. Running a hand through his hair impatiently, the Potions Master sighed. “If that imbecile comes to give me advice one more time, I might not have the patience or inclination to allow him to continue breathing.”

“You’d be doing the whole staff a favor.”

“Why Dumbledore would willingly hire that buffoon is beyond me.”

“No one wants the job, you know that better than anyone,” Minerva replied evenly giving Severus a calculating look. “It’s cursed.”

“So I’ve heard. I wonder who will be saddled with next year.”

  
***

There was certainly more of a need for liquor tonight than a typical Friday called for. Between the several student attacks, the shocking turn of Harry Potter being a parselmouth, Hagrid being sacked, and Dumbledore’s forced exit, Minerva deemed that she had earned a stiff drink or two.

“I’m usually the one known for brooding Minerva, not you,” Severus said pulling the somber woman from her thoughts.

She nodded in response unable to fully express herself just yet.

“He’ll be back Minerva don’t fret.”

If Severus hadn’t been the only one present in the room, she’d never have believed the soft tone that spoke such comforting words belonged to him. Startled enough to look up, she found bottomless black eyes trained on her. For once those dark eyes held warmth instead of foreboding.

“I know,” Minerva groaned.

“Albus would never leave the school unprotected,” Severus assured. “He’s left you in charge with a mostly capable staff, one very obvious exclusion. The school will survive.”

She couldn’t be certain, but Minerva felt that Severus needed to hear those words just as much as she did. Hogwarts had been both of their homes for a very long time. Possibly even more so for him, if her suspicions of his childhood held any weight. But they weren’t the only ones who’d be suffering if the school shut down. There were countless students walking these halls who’d never reach their full potential without Hogwarts. What where they to do about them?

“If I ever get the opportunity to go back in time and wring Salazar Slytherin’s neck, I’ll die a happy woman,” Minerva quipped as she downed yet another glass of some cheap muggle whiskey they’d found at the Hog’s Head. Severus tensed at the harshness of her tone. “I’m sorry Severus, it’s not your house to blame. I know that.”

Severus gave her a curt nod before pouring himself another drink.

The poor potions master had been on the receiving end of many a howler over the past few weeks. When parents caught wind of the fact that students were being attacked, they’d laid the blame at the most obvious target. The head of Slytherin house. Severus had received an untold amount of hate mail and one or two envelopes containing a nasty curse or hex. Nothing serious as of yet, but the bandage wrapped around his left hand told the story all too well.

In fact, the only person receiving more hate mail than him, was Minerva herself. Parents wanted answers of course, but many of them had a no patience and a good deal of anger. But at least she had the full support of her staff. Severus had also faced the ire of professors Vector and Kettleburn on a daily basis. Even Charity Burbage, who was normally such a gentle soul, had shouted down the Potions Master after the attack on Penelope Clearwater.

Minerva spent as much time settling down her staff’s attacks on each other as she had assuring parents that their students were safe.

“I’m absolutely terrified at the moment,” the head of Gryffindor admitted in a small voice. She’d the blame the cheap whiskey for such honesty, but she knew it was more than that. Despite everything and everyone that her she shouldn’t, Minerva trusted the man sitting across from her. She’d known him for far too long and had been through far too much to think any other way.

An odd emotion flashed across the Potion Master’s face too quickly to determine. Whatever it was, it softened the rough edges and showed a much younger man beneath the constant scowl. “Under the circumstances,” he replied slowly, “I’d consider you a fool if you weren’t. Even if you’re a Gryffindor.”

The last he said with a sneer that might almost have been a smile. “Whatever you need Minerva, just ask,” he continued. “I’ll help you in the same way I would Dumbledore. The staff trusts you as do the students. If we must close the school for a month or so, until we figure these attacks out then that’s what we’ll do.”

Overcome by the warmth her usually dour companion offered, Minerva reached across the space between them and grabbed his hand. Severus tensed for moment, before calming and giving her hand a squeeze.

Whatever came next, Minerva sat firm in the assurance that she wouldn’t be leading this school alone. That she had found trust in the strangest of places.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed! Please let me know what you think in the comments/reviews below because they are life! See you guys in the next chapter (which should be up hopefully soon).


	4. Marauders, Werewolves, and Old Grudges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe I’ve managed to finish this one early! But made it! I really really struggled with this year for whatever reason. Initially this was the chapter I was most excited to write, but actually writing it; yikes! Anyways, its done and hopefully you guys enjoy it! I’m going to get started on year 4 sometime before the end of this week, but I’m probably not going to make it to posting it this week as well like I was hoping. But I will get it finished as soon as I possibly can. In the meantime, here is Prisoner of Azkaban!

There were a few things of which Severus Snape was certain. The first was that he'd been an utterly foolish young man. The second lie somewhere in the fact that Albus Dumbledore -unique and infuriating man though he was - had more than earned Severus's loyalty and trust. The third thing he found certainty in was the fact that he most assuredly was not jealous of the bloody werewolf.

Yet as he walked into the staff room on Friday night and saw Lupin chatting easily with Minerva in the chair that Severus usually occupied, he certainly had to assure himself that the pit forming in his stomach had nothing to do with jealousy.

Falling into the armchair furthest from the Fire and, subsequently furthest from Minerva, Severus attempted to temper his emotions. Despite his best intentions watching the two talk with a familiarity he'd never achieve burned the Potions Master. Severus angrily plopped the bottle of elf made wine onto the table beside him. The clinking of glasses alerted the others that they were no longer alone.

“Good evening Severus,” Lupin said acknowledging the Potion Master’s presence with a smile.

“Lupin,” he returned tensely.

“Remus and I have been discussing his first week,” Minerva began, “seems as if someone else is in need of a weekly habit.”

Unconsciously, Severus tensed at her proposition. The Potions Master had no intention of sharing his Friday evenings with the best friend of his rival. Little of his internal turmoil displayed across his face as he replied, “How very telling. And here I thought you’d been the hit of the school.”

Lupin paled slightly at the reminder of his actions earlier in the week. Throwing a sheepish grin in Minerva’s direction, Lupin shifted in his seat. “Yes well, popularity doesn’t mean that they always listen to me.”

“Yes,” Severus sneered, “I imagine it is rather difficult to teach while the students believe themselves to be friends with their professor.”

“Oh, hush Severus,” Minerva scolded lightly. “As if you didn’t struggle your first few weeks.”

Duly chastened though he was, Severus couldn’t contain his smug smile after getting a dig or two in at the werewolf. Either completely unaware of the animosity sitting heavily in the air around them or determined to bring some semblance of cordiality between the two (Severus would wager all his money on the latter over the former), Minerva continued attempting to make small talk with her two former students.

Much to Severus’s dismay a flick of her wand procured another glass and another flick filled the three glasses to their brims. Over the years there had been a few professors who joined them for an occasionally Friday night, but those evenings had been (thankfully) few and far between. He and Minerva had an understanding that he shared with few other individuals. _Only one other actually_ , he reminded himself. He wasn’t certain he could handle sharing his evening of unwinding with a man that he came just shy of hating.

“Any students in particular giving you a hard time, Remus?” the Head of Gryffindor asked, sipping from her drink and ignoring the glares Severus shot her.

“None that I can’t handle,” Lupin supplied with a quiet confidence that hadn’t been present so many years ago.

Minerva fixed the Defense professor with a sharp look. “Just know that if you have any specific issues, you can have a discussion with that student’s Head of House. We are all more than happy to support you. Even Severus,” the infuriating woman added the last with a swift glance at Severus that discouraged him from making any comments to the contrary.

Severus rolled his eyes before begrudgingly agreeing. He could hardly imagine how hellish his first year would have been if Minerva hadn’t gone to bat for him all those years ago. Regardless of his dislike for the man, Severus couldn’t dismiss a direct request from the woman who’d done so much for him.

A few of the dark patches surrounding the man’s expression seemed to lighten at the offered help. “Thank you both.”

As the two Gryffindors picked the conversation up once again, Severus leaned back into his armchair and blocked out their voices. Disgust filled him at the prospect of helping Lupin in this area as well. Despite the hopes of Minerva and Dumbledore, his hatred for the werewolf had not lessened over the years since they roamed these halls as classmates.

Instead it seemed that his dislike of the man had only grown. Knowing how close Lupin had been to Sirius Black only heightened that dislike and engendered a great deal of mistrust. Dumbledore might think he was being clever by collecting all of Black’s potential targets in one area, but Severus found the idea of inviting one of Black’s closest friends into Hogwarts insane. Lupin had yet to prove himself trustworthy and the man’s inability to stay away from Potter didn’t garner any votes of confidence from Severus.

Sighing to himself, Severus downed his glass and decided to call the evening a failure. He’d much rather while away his time in the confines of his private rooms than endure Lupin’s asinine conversations. Excusing himself on the rather weak excuse of having papers to grade, the Potions Master made his exit. If he thought he caught a glimmer of disappointment in Minerva’s gaze as she bid him good night surely, he was just imagining things.

***

He’d obviously had far too much to drink this time around. But for the moment said intoxication seemed to be pulling him from the sour mood that had plagued him all week.

Observant though she was, it had taken Minerva several years to notice that the weeks surrounding Halloween usually found the Potions Master in a dark mood. In all the years he'd been teaching at the school, Severus had not been to a single Halloween feast. On the few that had landed on a Friday, she'd found him three sheets to the wind by the time she made it to the staff room. There had been several weeknight Halloweens that Minerva had found him in similar fashion.   
  
The only difference tonight was that he hadn't quite reached the level of drunkenness she was accustomed to finding him at. This year had been rather trying for Severus already, and knowing how dangerously his mood tipped this time of year, Minerva had set out to find him instead of attending the feast.   
  
“Severus, we really must talk about your obvious drinking problem,” Minerva quipped as she fell into her normal armchair.

Shooting a glare at her from behind curtains of lank black, Severus nursed his glass of Ogdens. “I do not have a drinking problem,” he responded with slurred words.

Minerva rolled her eyes. “Yes, and I’m Merlin.”

“Wonderful to meet you,” he sneered, “personal hero of mine, you are.”

Huffing at his sarcasm, Minerva flicked her wand producing her own glass. “Well if I can’t steer you away from your destructive ways then I’ll just have to join you.”

“About time,” he muttered into his glass.

Noting the half empty bottle of Ogden’s Minerva tutted softly before taking part in this breaking of tradition. As she sipped, the head of Gryffindor took stock of her morose friend. In all her years as his colleague she’d never seen him disheveled while drinking and tonight was no exception. Severus remained carefully guarded even while drunk. The only telling signs of intoxication were the slight red tinge of his cheeks and the far-off look in his eyes.

Deciding he was too far gone for actual conversation, she settled for pleasant reminiscing. “We’ve spent many a Halloween like this haven’t we.”

Severus merely shrugged in response, his black gaze locked on the dancing flames in the fire place. It seemed there was little possibility of lifting his mood tonight.

“When I was younger, I used to love Halloween,” Minerva said mostly to herself in order to fill the evening with some semblance of normalcy. “All of the mischief and fun, not to mention the sweets. Of course, we weren't allowed to celebrate it at my house.” The slight inclining of Severus’s head in her direction indicated that that had perked his interest. “My father was staunchly against it,” she informed. “Believed it was the height of pagan rituals, which really was odd considering his marriage to a witch. But it was one of the rare nights my father would indulge and bring us home some treat or another.”

“How lovely,” Severus sneered, thoroughly ruining her joy at such memories.

“Do you have any Halloween traditions besides drowning yourself in a bottle?” Minerva snapped.  
  
Severus snorted without humor. "Let's see,” he drawled, lengthening each syllable with the slightest of slurs. “My father was usually too drunk on holidays to pay much attention to my mother or I which I guess is a good tradition in and of itself. At least those nights all we had to do was get his moronic ass onto the couch. He rarely had it in him to get violent on those days-”

“Violent?” Minerva asked, startled by such honest revelations.

The dark smirk that appeared on her young companion’s face held too much anger to be considered anything close to humorous. “He could be a right bastard when the mood struck him,” Severus supplied, “and it struck him quite often.”

Minerva felt her stomach fall somewhere close to the region of her feet. She’d always suspected that Severus’s home life had been less than perfect – he’d been far too antisocial and twitchy as a student for her to suspect anything less – but she’d never had any kind of confirmation. And he’d always cleverly evaded her until now. “Your father hit you?” 

“Don't act so surprised,” Severus sneered. “You at least had suspicions of that when I was a student.”

“Suspicions yes,” Minerva admitted slowly fixing her charge with a long look, searching for any sign of betrayal at her words. Severus would be mortified to having admitted this come tomorrow morning, but she couldn’t find it in her to be upset over that. The young man had obviously carried these scars around for far too long. “But I never had anything concrete enough to act on. You’ve always been a clever bastard and I’m rather certain that you had no desire for me to find out until just now.”

To her surprise, something close to a true smile tugged begrudgingly across his face. “After all these years, I guess you know me too well.”

“Not well enough it would seem,” Minerva countered.

Severus raised his glass in apparent agreement. Time passed slowly as the two companions sat in front of the staff room fire.

Shockingly, it was Severus who broke the silence first. “A friend and I used to sneak down to the kitchens after the feast and bribe the house elves for extra cauldron cakes.”

Smiling to herself, Minerva put on her best stern professor voice. “Surely as employees of this fine establishment, they refused such rule breaking schemes.”

“Always thought I was too skinny. They never denied us,” Severus winked.

Before she could properly scold him for such actions, the staffroom door burst open admitting Professor Burbage. “Professors,” the breathless woman called urgently. “The Headmaster has requested that you both meet him at the entrance to the dungeons.”

“What’s the meaning of this Charity,” Minerva questioned.

“Sirius Black has been sighted in the castle. He attacked the Fat Lady’s portrait!”

Minerva and Severus were on their feet in an instant, all thoughts of confessions and drunkenness forgotten. Remarkably steady on his feet, Severus led the way out of the staff room. Neither professor looked back to make certain their messenger followed as the dashed down the corridors to the dungeons.

***

Remus Lupin’s arrival threw more than a few obstacles into Severus’s daily life at Hogwarts. He’d thought the man’s insipid boggart display at the beginning of the school year would be the worst he had to endure. Between the humiliation at being turned into a laughing stock among the third years and the anger from Minerva over the fact that one of her student’s boggart turned out to be Severus himself, that incident had been an absolute nightmare for him. Of course, at that point, he hadn’t taken Dumbledore’s orders to create the wolfsbane potion every month into account. Brewing that monstrosity of a potion turned out to be a challenge even for his formidable brewing talents.

The worst part of it all was that the decade long tradition of Friday night drinks was once again on tenuous ground. A fact that though, he loathed admitting it, left an ache in his chest and a hole in his days. Minerva’s insistence on having Lupin attend such drinking sessions – in order to both help the young man feel included as a staff member and in an attempt to forge a relationship between he and Severus – and Severus’s own inability to attend some Friday evenings due to the thrice damned wolfsbane potion, left him missing out on his favorite habit far too often. 

With dementors surrounding the school and Sirius Black’s break in, it was easily turning into one of the worst years of his stint at Hogwarts.

Several days in to term Severus had also discovered that he’d be responsible for teaching any classes that Lupin missed. While he enjoyed the idea of taking over the position, he’d avidly sought for so many years, Severus did not enjoy the extra workload. However, he did see the possible benefits of such opportunities. Astonishingly he’d rather enjoyed insulting Lupin in his own classroom, despite the third year’s obvious despair. It might even be possible that one of the dunderheaded fools would understand his topic of choice. Only slightly, but possible none the less.

Sitting in front of the fire place of the staff room for the first time since Halloween it seemed as if his good day would come to a swift end. Minerva entered the room in a righteous fury like only she could. Fury whipped around her like a visible cloud, causing the few other souls unlucky enough to be present to make quick exits. Being made of something far sounder than those who fled, Severus held his place without flinching. Yet even he felt the smallest slivers of fear before he was able to appropriately squash it.

“What exactly were you thinking,” Minerva began without preamble.

While the angry Gryffindor refused to sit, Severus remained steadfastly in his seat. Affecting an air of boredom, he replied with every ounce of sarcasm he could muster. “That something stronger than wine would be needed for tonight.”

Minerva’s lips formed the thin line that usually served as a warning to the recipient. Severus found that he was far past fearing the formidable woman’s anger. “You’ve single handedly placed a valuable member of the staff at jeopardy of losing his job and you don’t see any issue with your actions?”

Shrugging Severus folded his hands together and peered at his opponent over steepled fingers. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Minerva-”

“Let me stop you right there Severus. You’ve done some questionable things over the years, but I’ve always held my tongue.”

“I must have missed that,” he snapped.

Minerva continued as if she’d never been interrupted. “But this time you’ve gone too far. Using your position to influence and out a man for an affliction he has no control over. That’s low even for you.”

Despite his earlier assertion to keep his temper calm, her final comment caused him to bristle. “Low for _even_ me is it?” he asked, noting the waspish quality of his voice but unable to bring himself back into complete check. “Because as Head of Slytherin, I’m somehow expected to perform at a certain level of immorality?”

“Not as Slytherin, but perhaps as someone whose own life choices should ingratiate him to the struggles that others might face,” Minerva responded without flinching.

Rage coursed through him at such insinuations. “My life choices do absolutely nothing to ingratiate me to a man who hides behind the power of others in hopes that he won’t have to make a stand for something.”

“You’re allowing your petty childhood feud to blind you,” Minerva spat.

Admittedly the last time he’d seen her this angry, Lucius Malfoy had been on the receiving end of her fury and he’d been exceedingly thankful to not be Lucius. Yet facing the full force of ire in this moment, he couldn’t find it in himself to bow out of the fight. Too many years of being forced to protect the secrets of a man who’d one tried to kill him weighed on his shoulders.

“There’s nothing petty about my dislike of Lupin,” Severus hissed, leaning forward in his chair to impress his point, “it’s perfectly warranted. As far as my choice of topics for the class I graciously covered for him, it is on the syllabus and I have every right to teach what I believe the students should know. If the Headmaster has a problem with it, he can choose someone else to aid the bloody werewolf.”

“I assure you that the Headmaster will have a problem when he discovers your blatant attempts at incrimination.”

“Then the Headmaster can speak with me about it.”

“If you’re angry about being asked to take over his classes then, by all means, allow someone else to do it,” Minerva ordered.

“Shall I allow someone else to create the potion that keeps him a tame wolf as well? Allow someone else to take on that exceedingly time-consuming process. Perhaps the Headmaster can guilt or blackmail someone else into taking on that,” Severus paused allowing his words to sink in past the stubborn front of Minerva McGonagall. “Until such a time, I will do as I please while helping the man towards whom I have a ‘petty childhood feud.’”

The barest hint of something softer entered Minerva’s expression. “Is it really worth holding on to all that anger, Severus?”

“Yes, it most certainly is,” the Potions Master answered. “I’d ask that you refrain from scolding me like this in the future. If I’m to be reprimanded, the Headmaster will assuredly handle it.”

His insolence earned him further anger and a glare that could have killed him if looks could perform such tasks. “You’re acting like a petulant child.”

“Thank you for your valuable opinion and observation. Now if you’ll excuse me, I am attempting to drown my week in a bottle.”

Noting the dismissal for what it was, Minerva (thankfully) took her leave in a huff of indignation and anger.

Severus drew in a deep breath as the door slammed behind her. His hatred of Lupin could cost him the one friendship he’d managed to build at Hogwarts. He could let go of his anger at the man who’d helped ruin his life in order to hold on to that which he’d worked so hard to achieve. Yet despite all he’d learned over the years, he couldn’t let it go. The self-proclaimed Marauders had cost him too much. They’d left scars that ran too deep and Lupin was the only one who remained in close proximity. If Severus got his hands on Sirius Black, he might be able to work through some of those feelings and come to a point of understanding with Lupin. But until such a time, he would hold on to the only thing that kept him from falling apart at the seams.

***

Hufflepuff had defeated Gryffindor in a splendid match and yet no one could find it in themselves to care. The dementors tended to have such effects.

Minerva still felt the chill of their presence clenching her chest. She’d been reminded of her lost love and how completely and totally alone she was in this world. Despite her rather impressive resolve, she still found herself lingering on the pain that such thoughts brought about.

She thoroughly expected the staff lounge to be empty as most of the faculty were tending to their students or hiding away in their own rooms working through their own issues. Minerva hadn’t spent an evening in the lounge since her last fight with Severus. The last person she expected to find at the fireplace was the aforementioned Potions Master. And yet there he sat eyes focused on the back wall.

Unable to draw herself away from the warmth of the room, Minerva squared her shoulders and decided to face the dour man. A quick observation of his soaked cloak and muddied boots told her that he’d most certainly been at the match. She expected that time had not cooled his anger and she doubted that the dementors had improved his temper. What she did not expect was to see obvious tear tracks running down his face.

“Severus?”

Though obviously startled to find himself no longer alone, the Potions Master collected himself remarkably fast. A long-fingered hand brushed quickly across his face attempting to dispel any evidence of such human emotions.

“Stop being ridiculous,” said Minerva in a soft voice, “I take it you were at the match as well.”

“Obviously,” he sneered, before noting the evidence that she was just as affected. “Dumbledore was right to keep those demons off the grounds.”

Minerva nodded in agreement. “That many at once…we’ll have students in hysterics for the remainder of the day.”

“Not to mention the staff.”

“Poppy’s been passing out chocolate left and right,” Minerva added offering a bar of said chocolate to her sullen companion. Taking the peace offering for what it was, Severus accepted the chocolate gladly. “Want to talk about it?” she offered.

“Do you?” he fired back.

“Fair enough.”

Once again having mended their fragile friendship, the two sat by the staff room fire consuming something far stronger than alcohol.

***

Severus was fuming as he stalked the corridors. Ghosts that refused to no amount of time could silence dogged each of his steps. Some fifteen years later and the bloody Marauders continued to haunt him. Lupin was every bit the fool he’d always taken him for if he thought Severus had bought his swift cover up for yet another Potter.

Blind rage drove him down the darkened halls without any real direction. It wasn’t enough that Lupin’s interference and refusal to accept responsibility for his past actions had allowed Potter to escape unscathed once more. No, on top of that disappointment, he’d been – yet again – humiliated in front of the spawn of his rival. It appeared that not even the grave could keep James Potter from making a fool of him.

Severus clenched his hands doing his best to stop the shaking. This year had been absolutely maddening. Contending with Lupin’s arrival and the youngest Potter’s constant insolence had been bad enough. Sirius Black’s escape only compounded the issues. The man who’d had Lily and James trust and then utterly betrayed them walked free. And apparently now was attempting to finish the work he’d begun twelve years ago.

When being honest with himself, Severus knew that much of the hatred he currently felt towards Black’s betrayal had little to do with Black. Severus had been the first to betray her after all. His real anger lay in the fact that Black’s actions cost Severus his chance at redemption. He’d turned coat against the Dark Lord in order to save Lily and all his actions had been meticulously undone by Black. A man he’d hated for too many years to count.

Because of Black, he would never get the chance to explain to his best friend how much of an idiot he’d been. How completely and totally ashamed he was that his foolish choices had put her in danger in the first place. The he was so very, very sorry for everything. Black had ruined that and so much more and Severus could never forgive him.

Filled to the brim with emotions, the Potions Master collapsed in a darkened alcove of the castle, certain that no one would actually be wandering the halls at such a late hour. And those who did would have a hard time spotting the black clad figure curled into the shadow filled corner.

Whether he noticed or not a small tabby cat peered out from behind a nearby suit of armor. The cat knew better than to approach the figure. Nonetheless it curled up and kept watch over the distraught professor throughout the evening.

***

Minerva had witnessed Severus’s anger on a number of occasions. Between the few disagreements they’d had over the years and his continuous bickering with other members of the staff, she’d seen his temper flare more times than she could count. However, tonight marked the first time she’d seen him truly enraged. A manic energy spilled from him as he paced in front of Dumbledore’s desk.

Minerva had taken her usual seat in front of the Headmaster’s desk, but Severus had yet to join sit. Bright blue eyes twinkled from behind half moon spectacles in a manner that, had she not known him better, might have indicated that Dumbledore was unperturbed by his Potions Master’s antics. In the long years since she’d first met the magnanimous man, Minerva had learned his tells and she could tell that the Headmaster was concerned.

“It’s absolutely ridiculous,” Severus ranted never ceasing in his pacing, “you realize this of course? That a well-guarded prisoner would be able to escape without any indication of how he managed it out from under the nose of the most talented wizard in Britain. You had a hand in this Dumbledore.”

His accusation was met with a long-suffering look from the Headmaster. “Severus, it’s been a long evening for everyone, perhaps it’s best to allow ourselves the clarity of sleep.”

“No!” Severus roared turning on his heel to glare at Dumbledore. “You helped him escape for whatever reason and you roped Potter into your scheme. Admit it.”

Hidden behind the rage and insolence coating Severus’s every word, Minerva detected a great deal of betrayal in the man’s tone. He’d faced a great disappointment tonight and he blamed that on Dumbledore completely. Whether his accusations had any weight to them or not, Severus was heading into dangerous waters.

“Severus, the man’s story held a great deal of truth and I believe-”

Exactly what Dumbledore believed was cut off by a bellow from the Potions Master. “Of course, it held truth! That’s how you frame a lie Albus. You coat it in enough truth to make it plausible. It’s a talent of mine that you’ve never hesitated to utilize when it suited you. Yet, despite my loyalty, despite everything I’ve done for you this year, you’ve chosen to back Black.”

“It is not a choice of one or the other Severus,” Dumbledore explained calmly.

Dumbledore’s explanations fell on deaf ears. “Then there’s the bloody werewolf, who tried to kill me again. But what do you care as long as Black and Potter are safe.”

Severus’s agitation bordered on hysterics at this point, leaving Minerva feeling as though she might be intruding on something private. Yet something Severus had said, resonated with the Head of Gryffindor. “Again?” she asked, breaking the mounting tension between the two men.

The Potions Master startled in a manner that told her he’d likely forgotten her presence. But he recovered quickly enough. “Yes, again,” he growled. “As in for the second time. The first time I was sixteen and Black, Lupin, and Potter got off scot free then as well didn’t they Headmaster. Well not this time.”

With his final threat looming, Severus strode from the room. Minerva turned a wide-eyed gaze to her mentor. An old weariness shrouded Dumbledore as his eyes lingered on the spot where Severus had hurled his accusations and threats. 

“Albus, what did he mean by a second time?” Minerva asked though she was afraid to hear the answer.

Dumbledore sighed in a manner that told her she wouldn’t like what she was about to hear. “When Severus, Sirius, James, and Remus were in their fifth year there was an incident,” he explained. “Sirius thought it would be humorous to trick Severus into wandering down to the Shrieking Shack on a full moon where he might run into Remus.”

Putting a hand to her chest, Minerva felt her jaw drop as the story continued. “When James discovered his friend’s actions, he raced after Severus at great risk to himself. Thankfully, he got to Severus in time and saved both his friend and his enemy. However, Severus saw Remus in full form that night.”

Finally finding her voice, Minerva asked the first question that popped into her mind. “This was their fifth year?” Dumbledore nodded in reply. “And Sirius was allowed to remain at Hogwarts.” This time Minerva couldn’t hide the indignation in her voice.

Dumbledore fixed her with that piercing stare that could make her feel like a student once again. “Minerva do not believe for even an instant that I would have allowed Sirius Black to remain at this school if I thought he’d intended to actually harm Severus or any other student. He was a brash sixteen-year-old boy who did not think through his actions. Severus was just as brash and just as foolish for sneaking out without thought to the possible consequences.”

“Yes,” Minerva began slowly crafting her argument with care, “but surely you can see that to a sixteen-year-old kid who’s just been through a traumatic experience it seems like you’re choosing favorites by allowing Sirius, Remus, and James to remain at the school.”

Dumbledore inclined his head. “Of course. I knew the importance of my decision at the time, just as I understand the significance of my actions this evening.”

“You ruined any chance for Severus to trust you in that moment.”

“And I solidified the trust of Sirius Black, James Potter, and Remus Lupin as well as several other students. A decision which has plagued me more than you could possibly know until tonight. Severus is angry at the moment, but he also knows that I trust him implicitly. He will come around eventually. Sirius Black on the other hand is in a fragile state of mind after being wrongly trapped in Azkaban for twelve years.”

“With all due respect Albus, I don’t think you understand how deeply Severus’s prejudices run.”

“But we can’t alienate another ally because of an old feud,” Dumbledore pointed out. “If tonight’s events tell us anything it is that dark times lie ahead of us. And we must be ready to meet them when they do. Sirius and Severus have bigger roles to play in the coming war. And when the time comes, they will both step up and do what is necessary.”

She couldn’t argue with him. He had several valid points. And yet- “You’re placing a lot of weight on the shoulder of two young men.”

“I’m placing weight on the shoulders of far more than just those two, Minerva,” he replied with a sad look. “Voldemort will return. And we will all have to decide whether to act or to stand aside and allow evil to persist.”

Despite her remaining anger at his decision so many years ago, Minerva knew he was right. It might shock many to know that Albus Dumbledore was merely human and therefore just as fallible as the rest of the world. Giving her mentor a nod and a good night, Minerva left Dumbledore’s office on a mission. She had an old habit to indulge in and she knew a certain Potions Master who was in desperate need of a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so just to be clear: Remus is one of my top five favorite characters. I absolutely adore him and love exploring the challenges that his character faced during the novels. All of that being said, I know that this story paints him in a bad light at times. That, however, is chalked up to how much of this chapter takes place from Severus’s pov. Despite the slightly less than hostile vibes we see in POA, it is obvious that Sev holds on to some pretty serious dislike for Lupin throughout the novels. If he believed that Remus was involved in the prank, it would only heighten his dislike and those scars don’t go away easily. So, any anti-Remus vibes you get from this chapter are not intentional on my part. They are, however, intentional on Sev’s part. Thanks for reading you guys! Let me know what you think and as always, I’ll see you guys in the next chapter.


	5. Aurors, Plots, and Tournaments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I want to apologize for taking so very long to write this chapter. Work has taken a turn for the crazy and with extra duties and hours I have very little time to actually write. That being said, this chapter is extra-long, but it is also relatively unedited. If there are tons of mistakes, I do apologize for that as well. I will no longer be able to stick to my once a week posting schedule, but I will try to post one chapter every two to three weeks. These next books are the meat and potatoes that I’ve really been excited to write about, so the longer wait will probably equate to longer chapters. Now that all of that is out of the way, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Please let me know what you guys think in the reviews/comment sections below. Thank you to everyone who's stuck with this story and who might be reading for the first time. You guys are awesome and the reason that I do what I do. As always, I’ll see you guys in the next chapter!

Severus settled himself into his usual armchair by the staff room fireside, glaring at anyone who so much as thought about sitting in the chair next to him. Not the he expected any company tonight, but he refused to deal with anyone else's attempts at small talk.

Notably the other staff members wondered at both his hostility and presence since such moods generally found him sequestered in his own office. The Potions Master himself remained uncertain as to what he was even doing here this evening. Minerva hadn't spoken to him since the end of last term, after he'd outed Lupin. He harbored no expectations of her showing tonight just because a new term had begun. However, the habit of drinking away the worries of his week had, apparently, become so well ingrained that he no longer knew of any other way to spend his Friday evenings.

He probably deserved Minerva's outrage, it had been well earned this time around. But he'd kept his mouth shut for far too many years where Lupin was concerned. The weight of the incident in the Shrieking Shack had moored him in hatred and disdain for too long. Refusing to allow anything lighter to grow. The self-proclaimed Marauders had attempted to murder him and had gotten away with their efforts after little more than a slap on the wrist. His self-worth - never particularly high as a teenager – had crumbled at the discovery that Black actually wanted him dead. The knowledge that even at Hogwarts no one wanted him had set his feet steadfastly on a dark path that he’d barely managed to return from. Severus might be older and wiser now, but the scars left by Potter and his crew were far too deep to have healed in such a short amount of time.

In short, Severus refused to repent for his decision last spring. Lupin had lied about Black and neglected his responsibilities. That alone had been enough to condemn the man in Severus’s eyes. Added to the years of accumulated hatred, it had all been too much. If Minerva couldn’t forgive him, then that was her issue.

At least that’s what the Potions Master attempted to tell himself.

Severus found himself so deep in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the object of his thoughts as she took her customary seat next to him until Minerva cleared her thoughts.

“Severus,” she acknowledged with a nod of her head.

“Minerva,” he responded. Unconsciously, he sat straighter in imitation of the astute posture of his colleague. 

The Head of Gryffindor poured herself a glass of the absinthe Severus had brought for the evening. “How was your summer?” she asked in a clipped tone.

“I enjoyed the quiet solitude rather well thank you," answered Severus in an equally bland voice. _There_ , _subtle enough to serve as passive aggressive and true enough to pass as idle conversation._ "And yours?”

"Similar."

A tense silence, not unheard of between the two, but far more uncomfortable than normal stretched between them. Despite his resolve not to, Severus cracked first. "How's the first week back been?"

Minerva shook her head as a fraction of the old warmth returned to her expression. “As well as can be expected all things considering.”

“Yes, this year should be eventful to say the least.”

“I don’t know what Albus was thinking,” Minerva scoffed turning their conversation into a semblance of what they generally shared on Friday evenings. “Agreeing to this tournament. Bringing Alastor onto staff.”

Severus nodded. “Moody is quite the odd staff assignment. He’s been off his rocker for more than a few years.”

Though he’d tried his best to hide it, Minerva must have picked up on the hostility in his words because she rolled her eyes at him. “Please don’t tell me we’re about to have another year of antagonism between you and a Defense professor. I’m not certain I can handle another.”

“If memory serves, you were just as disenchanted with Lockhart,” he fired back, shifting into a more relaxed position.

“That’s hardly a fair comparison. Everyone who’s met him is disenchanted with Lockhart.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Severus said raising his glass and toasting. To his delight Minerva’s lips twitched ever so slightly into what might soon become a smile. “Then there was that one woman my second or third year here that you held a good deal of animosity towards. What was her name? Acoosta… Acosta… Acoasta…”

Minerva cut him off before he could take his guessing game any further. “Her name was Acosta and she was highly uncapable. The woman couldn’t even properly defend herself,” Minerva scoffed. “At least Lockhart excelled at memory charms.”

“Did you just compliment Lockhart?” Severus teased. “I’ll have to alert both the press and the man himself. Both will be delighted I’m sure.”

“You’re a terrible person you know?” She smirked.

Raising an eyebrow at her Severus responded in kind. “I’m well aware, but at least I admit it.”

“That’s beside the point, Alastor is…” Minerva tilted her head back and swirled her drink as she searched for the proper description of their newest colleague. “Well, off balance at the best of times. He taught Unforgivables on the first day of term. Not to mention what he did to Draco Malfoy. I assure you we haven’t heard the end of that. Lucius will be furious when he finds out.”

“Lucius is already furious,” Severus informed her. “But there’s little he can do against Moody.”

Minerva’s eyes wandered over his face allowing his meaning to sink in. The woman nodded solemnly. Severus’s dislike of Moody stemmed far beyond his normal distaste for the change in Defense professors. The former auror had been present for his own interrogation and trial, events Severus wouldn’t soon forget. Despite Moody’s current exile from the Ministry, one word from the old man could send anyone once accused of being a Death Eater straight into the hands of the Aurors.

Tension stretched through his shoulders at the thought. He had a fair amount of respect for Moody, but that respect was tempered by loathing and fear. It seemed that, at least this time around, Minerva could understand his dislike.

“I hear he searched your office.” Her words struck somewhere between an offended statement and probing question.

Severus tilted his head in a curt nod as he observed his companion. She seemed to be insulted on his behalf at Moody’s actions, but if she was angry for him then that meant she still thought of him as a friend. “He implied that Dumbledore asked him to do so,” Severus admitted.

Anger and disbelief crossed Minerva’s face leaving Severus feeling pleased. “Ridiculous,” she huffed. “Dumbledore did no such thing. Alastor is just working off his own paranoia.”

“Luckily he now has a suitable target,” growled Severus unable to keep the bitterness from his tone.

Minerva fixed him with a piercing stare for several minutes. Whatever she was looking for, she seemed unable to find it because she let his comment go without comment. “If nothing else it will be an interesting year,” Minerva supplied simply.

This time the silence that landed between them held far more comfort and familiarity. Perhaps their friendship could survive yet another hurdle.

Ever the masochist, Severus had to know where they stood. “Does all of this pleasantry mean you’re no longer angry with me?”

Lips forming a thin line, Minerva turned her gaze to the fireplace as she let loose a long breath. “No Severus, I’m still furious with you.” The Potions Master nodded looking down at the drink he held tightly in his hands. “However, if I wait until you apologize to Lupin to forgive you then I fear I’ll be long dead before the event takes place.”

“I’ll not be apologizing,” Severus conceded, hoping against hope that such a statement wouldn’t cost him the one friendship he’d managed to cling to.

“I know Severus.”

Though her voice held a disappointment that ate at him, she hadn’t forsaken their friendship over the werewolf. A weight he hadn’t know he carried lifted from Severus’s shoulders making him feel far lighter than he had in weeks. He and Minerva may never become incredibly close, but they could hold onto the friendly respect they’d crafted over the many years of Friday night meetings. He might even have found himself something akin to an actual honest to God friend. One who wouldn’t leave him over a few harsh words or differing ideals.

It certainly wasn’t perfect, but to Severus it was the best he’d known in many years.

***

The change had been gradual. Barely noticeable at first but undeniable now. Faint lines that had once burned black with purpose begun reappearing. At first, he believed it to be his own paranoia or a trick of a guilty mind. However, the now obvious outline of the mark in his forearm dispelled all happier possibilities.

With a sinking feeling Severus was forced to admit that the Dark Lord would return soon.

Fear had been the first of his emotions to make itself known. But that had settled soon enough into a cold resignation. Acceptance that his most hated role would soon resume.

He’d spoken with Dumbledore immediately after finally admitting to himself that he could no longer deny the mark’s return. The Headmaster had expressed no surprise at his revelation. They’d both been expecting this event since that fateful night in 1981. This just confirmed what they’d always known.

Sitting in Dumbledore’s office watching as the man’s formidable brain set to work, Severus allowed his mind to wander. Everything was about to change. They all sat on the brink of the abyss that would be the Second Wizarding War. Everything they’d fought so valiantly for some thirteen years ago would come crumbling down as the Dark Lord made another bid for power.

Severus’s own life sat tenuously balanced on the razor edge of the knife. Both he and Dumbledore were well aware of that fact. While he held few allusions of surviving this war, he couldn’t act recklessly. One wrong move from this point forward could cost the him more than just his pitiful life, it would cost the Order their spy. Dumbledore’s ace up his sleeve. If Severus didn’t remain completely alert and focused all could be lost.

The weight of the world sat firmly upon the shoulders of the two men sitting at the Headmaster’s desk as they began plotting their next moves.

***

Another long week drew to a close leaving Hogwarts in a state of collective chaos. With students from two other schools wandering the corridors and filling the Great Hall, the castle was filled to the brim. Now that the excitement of the visitors had died down a bit – in every case except for Viktor Krum – Hogwarts students had turned their attention to finding creative ways to pass the age line.

A subject she fully intended to discuss with Severus tonight. She found said drinking partner already posted in his customary armchair by the fire. Catching him while brooding, Minerva couldn’t help but notice that the Potions Master looked far more worn than usual. His normally sallow skin looked far paler than normal highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. With Alastor Moody roaming the halls, she’d expected this year would take a toll on the Potions Master, it was taking a toll on them all, but she hadn’t expected to see such obvious effects this soon.

A large stack of papers sat on his side table, denoting that it would be one of _those_ nights. Drinking remained an option, there would just be far less consumption than normal.

“I see you’ve decided to actually be a professor this evening,” Minerva greeted with a wink.

The corner of Severus’s mouth twitched at the obvious exasperation in her words. “I find that it is a necessity every now and then.”

“Dull necessity.”

With a swift flick of his wand, a bottle of mead and two glasses appeared on the table between them. Surrendering herself to her bad habits, Minerva took her seat and grabbed a glass.

“I’m curious as to how many students you have had to dissuade from attempting to cross the age line?” 

Severus didn’t bother to look up from the essay in hand, as he snorted. “I find that all I need do is enter the vicinity of the Goblet and glare at any student stupid enough to try something so foolish in front of me.” He shot her a quick glance allowing her to see faint amusement glittering through black eyes.

“I’ve run off the Weasley twins four times in the past two days,” Minerva chuckled, finding it easier to deal with her annoyance as she drank more mead. “Those two are adamant.”

“Were I a betting man, I’d put money on those two to pull one over on the magical artifact,” Severus smirked. “Luckily for us it isn’t sentient, or the boys could simply annoy it into compliance.”

Laughing brightly, Minerva poured herself another drink. “Yes, fortunately the only ones able to be annoyed at present are myself and the other professors forced to keep their scheming at bay.”

She paused for several moments, simply basking in the easy companionship that existed between them. As Severus replaced the now graded essay with an ungraded one, Minerva attempted small talk. “What are you grading?”

“First year essays about the properties of moonstones,” Severus grumbled.

“How riveting.”

“Rather the opposite, I’m afraid. Half these children can’t spell or even begin to construct a proper sentence and the other half get so far off topic that it can’t even be considered a potions essay anymore.” The Potions Master sighed and leaned bag in his chair, stretching out long legs and tossing the papers aside. “Dumbledore oversold this position when he hired me.”

A knowing smile played across Minerva’s face. “You’ve come a long way from the boy who first started here Severus. I don’t know if it’s possible to oversell the position that’s turned you into the man you are today.”

“Minerva, I do believe you’ve over-indulged this evening,” he sneered in reply. In contrast to his words, an obvious pride shone from his closed expression at her praise. Or perhaps she was just getting better at reading him.

“I’ve barely had two glasses. Learn how to accept a compliment you stubborn ass,” she replied with fondness. “Now toss over a few papers and I’ll look over grammar for you.”

Severus handed over a stack of papers gratefully before turning back to his own stack. The two spent the next few hours laughing over student mistakes and cheeky writing styles. For those few hours, Minerva allowed herself to forget all about the impending Tournament and the obtrusive visitors to the castle.

That is until one of said visitors interrupted their Friday evening.

"Severus," a frustratingly familiar voice interrupted.

Severus turned dark eyes on the man who dared to impose himself on the most important day of the week. "Karkaroff," he responded coldly.

"A word?" Karkaroff asked, though it sounded more of a command than a question.

Narrowing his eyes at the man, Severus indicated the stack of papers he and Minerva had been pouring over before speaking. "As you can see, I'm in the middle of something rather important and can't be bothered."

"This is more important."

"More important than correcting the actions of one of my students?" Severus sneered.

Taking a step forward in an obvious attempt at intimidation, Karkaroff’s voice dropped to a barely audible hiss. "Life and death."

Rolling his eyes at the dramatics of the Durmstrang Headmaster, Severus cast an exasperated look at Minerva, who had the gall to respond with a smirk. "Very well. If you’ll excuse me Minerva."

Grabbing his stack of papers at her nod, Severus swept from the staff room leaving his former ally to walk out in his wake.

Karkaroff allowed him to get as far as closing the staff room door before blurring out his message. "It's returning-"

"Not another word until we've reached my office, you moronic oaf," Severus growled venomously at the idiotic man.

The trip to the dungeons seemed to take both a lifetime and an oddly short while. Severus had managed to avoid Karkaroff in the week since the man’s arrival. It seemed as if his luck had finally run out.

Before too long, they found themselves at Severus’s office door. Once both entered and the proper silencing spells had been cast, Severus nodded for Karkaroff to speak.

"It's returning," the man supplied quickly. His eyes shifted from one area of the room to another, no doubt looking for anything of value – physical and implications.

"And your point?"

Karkaroff narrowed his eyes at his counterpart. "Surely that is enough of a point."

"I've no concerns with such a matter,” Severus replied flippantly as he walked across the room to set his stack of papers on his desk.

Karkaroff followed him doggedly. "You know as well as I what this means. The Dark Lord will rise again."

Severus leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms, allowing silence to reign after the man’s comments. Watching Karkaroff wring his hands in fear, Severus felt a stirring of his own apprehension flare up. Luckily a long life of playing a particular role meant he was better at concealing his own fear than the man currently berating him. "Sooner rather than later one would assume. You believe I should be worried?"

"You and I both."

"I'm not the one who sold out fellow Death Eaters to the Ministry,” Severus pointed out.

Karkaroff countered quickly. "Yes, you're simply the one so deep in Dumbledore's pocket that your consorting with those closest to him on your own time."

"Do not feign either concern or worry for me, Igor,” the Potions Master spat, his anger overruling his previous fear. “Unless I've very much mistaken, my name was one you once attempted to muddy in order to free yourself. If it’s some ill-begotten alliance your looking for, search elsewhere."

"You think the Dark Lord will have any more sympathy on you than he will on me?"

"I am not your concern and as I've stated I have no qualms about him returning. And do you truly believe that I would trust you not to throw my name out once again in order to help yourself?"

"Not if we had an agreement!"

Severus rolled his eyes in obvious exasperation. "Because a bond with the rest of the Inner Circle wasn't agreement enough? Good evening Igor and do watch yourself around our new Defense Professor. Your little spectacle the other night didn’t go unnoticed."

With those final parting words, Severus swept away into his adjoining rooms and locked the door behind him. Leaning heavily against the door, a harsh breath escaped the Potions Master. If Igor was wound up enough to seek out alliances, then Severus had been right to go to Dumbledore earlier this week.

Karkaroff might be a coward but the man was no fool. He’d sensed the same thing Severus had. Darkness was slowly seeping out of the shadows and across the country. Shrouding those who’d once answered its call willingly. Severus could only hope that his interactions with Karkaroff would be seen as disdain for the man’s willingness to betray the Dark Lord and his followers. Karkaroff’s presence in the castle complicated an already precarious situation.

Sighing heavily, Severus began his evening routines as sinister thoughts and murky memories plagued him. It seemed as if fate was determined to throw all his past failures back in his face this year.

***

It seemed that they were cursed to never have a proper Halloween. Tonight’s fiasco with the Goblet of Fire only further proved to Minerva that the evening was as cursed as her father had always insisted. Following Dumbledore’s dismissal of the champions, the heads of the three schools as well as Bagman and Crouch had parted ways. Hostility lying thick among them.

When only she, Dumbledore, Alastor, and Severus remained the old Headmaster’s eyes lost their twinkle. All notions of his offered nightcap having dissipated with the departure of the others. Despite the anger she still felt towards her Slytherin counterpart, Minerva shared a knowing glance with Severus at Dumbledore’s sigh.

“This doesn’t bode well,” Dumbledore intoned as he turned to face his three professors.

Moody responded first. “It most certainly doesn’t Albus. That boy’s being set up.”

“We can’t allow this Albus,” Minerva insisted, praying that he would see sense.

Dumbledore frowned. “We have no choice but to Minerva. Harry is now bound by a magical contract. He’s obligated to participate. Regardless of how his name turned up in the Goblet, it chose him as a champion. There’s no turning back now.”

“Do you honestly believe Potter had nothing to do with this?” Severus asked breaking his silence. From the sneer evident on his face, it was apparent he did not.

Minerva’s blood ran hot at the implications. “Of course, he had nothing to do with it Severus! He may be reckless and idiotic at times, but he’s not this stupid.”

“That remains to be seen,” the Potions Master countered. “If it allows him a chance at fame and glory-”

“He is not James,” Minerva shouted. “The boy is not the one at fault here.”

“Well it certainly isn’t Dumbledore’s as the other Headmasters – as well as the rest of Britain – will believe,” Severus hissed. “Especially when the _Prophet_ gets ahold of this story and twists it around. Its-”

“I agree with Minerva,” Dumbledore interjected calmly. “Harry had nothing to do with this. I believe we can assume that there is a larger plot at work here.”

Dumbledore shot a meaningful look at Severus making the younger man pale quickly. “You think-”

Once again Severus was interrupted. This time by Alastor. “So, you do think there’s something bigger at work here?”

Nodding solemnly, Dumbledore began pacing. “The question isn’t whether or not there’s a plot, the question is who is acting its orchestration.”

Minerva’s eyes followed the Headmaster as he continued his furious pacing. “We have to protect the boy Albus. We can’t simply throw him to the wolves.”

“And yet we can’t simply pull him from the tournament,” Dumbledore replied absently.

“Perhaps,” Severus added slowly, his calculating gaze fixed on Dumbledore. “Perhaps for the time being, we should allow events to unfold.” Dumbledore stopped his pacing and shared a significant look with his Potions Master. “If you are adamant that Potter had nothing to do with this, then it stands to reason that he is being set up in an extremely dangerous situation. If we are to uncover the truth of these actions, we need more information.” 

As Dumbledore seemed to be thinking carefully through Severus’s words both of Alastor’s eyes fixed themselves on Severus. “Seems as if someone has Potter exactly where they want him,” he growled.

If she hadn’t known him so well, Minerva would never have noticed the tension that settled across Severus’s shoulders at his words. All she would have seen was the maliciousness that dashed across his face, proving just how dangerous the younger man could be if provoked.

“Which is exactly what I just implied Moody,” Severus hissed waspishly.

Moody met the other man’s anger in stride. “You seem to be more concerned that Potter might have broken the rules than the fact that the boy is being set up.”

“And you seem to have given the particulars of this event a fair amount of thought.”

“Just because I’m no longer an auror doesn’t mean I stop thinking like one.”

“Enough,” Dumbledore ordered batting aside the threatening conversation quickly. Fixing both men with a piercing glare, the Headmaster continued. “There is no in the room that I do not trust implicitly. As such, I agree with Severus in this matter.” The man in question gave a nod of gratitude to Dumbledore. “We will protect Harry in every way possible, but if we hope to uncover the truth, we must allow events to play out.”

“So, we’re offering him up as bait?” said Minerva, unable to believe her ears or hold her tongue. “Albus that’s unacceptable. He’s just a boy.”

Dumbledore shot a smile in her direction, his blue eyes twinkling once more. “I’m afraid it is our only option Minerva. Harry will be watched and monitored as closely as possible. But we have little else in the way of choice.”

Disbelief coursed through her at his statement. The man truly wished to allow a fourteen-year-old boy to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Dumbledore obviously noted her dissatisfaction. “Minerva, Harry is no ordinary teenage boy. He’s been through more in his fourteen years than most adults. He can handle these tasks and we will keep a close eye on him. We’ll protect him.”

***

Once the first task had been placed behind them, Severus found himself almost content until he discovered that the schools would stick to tradition and host a Yule Ball. The mortification of being forced to teach etiquette and a proper waltz to his Slytherins could only compare to the constant disdain he felt at Moody’s hounding.

The man’s relentless questioning and observations were beginning to wear on the already paranoid Potions Master. Their previous meeting in the corridors the other night had shaken Severus more than he’d like to admit. Dumbledore’s trust meant everything to him and the thought that said trust might be nothing more than a farce weighed heavily upon him. Moody had to be lying. There could be no other explanation.

“Sickle for your thoughts?” Came a voice that sounded as worn as he felt.

“I’m afraid you’d be overpaying,” he responded in cliched fashion. Rubbing a hand across his face Severus shot a smirk at his long-time drinking partner.

Minerva fell heavily into her seat, the perfect picture of sheer exhaustion. “Surely, there’s something of value to your brooding.”

“It’s been a long week.”

“That it has. And it doesn’t seem as if the next one will be any better.”

Severus let out an uncharacteristic groan as he accepted the glass, she handed him and emptied its contents in a single gulp. “No, it appears as if the next few weeks will be even worse.”

To his chagrin, Minerva began chuckled. “Not looking forward to teaching the students how to waltz Severus?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“And here I thought you of all people would be excited,” Minerva responded wearing a look of feigned surprise. “Seeing as it’s a large social event intended to allow everyone to let their hair down and have a bit of fun.”

“You’ll once again have to forgive me for not being ecstatic about the possibility of humiliating myself in front of the entire school,” Severus sneered. “I’d not expected you to be so cheerful about such an event either.”

Minerva shrugged. “It’s tradition.”

“It’s ridiculous.”

“It’s intended to encourage international cooperation.”

“It’s intended to make me entirely nauseous.”

“You could try to look at the bright side Severus,” Minerva snorted.

Pinching the bridge of his nose Severus grumbled. “If there were a bright side Minerva, I assure you I would at least attempt to look at it.”

Minerva shook her head and poured them each another glass.

“I suppose I could farm out dance lessons to another member of staff,” he said wistfully.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if the Head of Gryffindor understood his implication all too well and was having none of it. “Absolutely not. Severus, I value both your friendship and your peace of mind but not enough that I’d take on teaching etiquette to two groups of unruly students.”

“You wound me.”

“As if you wouldn’t respond in the same manner.”

For the first time that evening, Severus felt a traitorous smile tug at his lips. Despite the insecurities Moody’s presence was digging up, despite the looming threat of the Dark Lord’s rise, despite even the most sinister of all – the prospect of teaching his students how to dance – Severus felt a surge of warmth that knowledge that he had earned Minerva McGonagall’s friendship. If nothing else, in her presence he could find a small spot of light in the ocean of darkness that surrounded them.

***

With the second task completed, Minerva found herself finally able to breathe easily. She’d been rather reluctant to aid with the “kidnapping” of four students, but overall the task had been a success. And they now found themselves with only the final task lurking before them. The only hiccup in the entire venture, after Harry Potter’s selection as champion, left the staff, Minerva especially, with a sense of unease. Barty Crouch’s death had been far too convenient.

Coupled with the other events of this year, Crouch’s demise couldn’t be seen as an isolated incident. Something sinister lay on the horizon and for all her intelligence, Minerva couldn’t figure out what it might be. 

However, as the staff room door opened admitting her favorite Potions professor, all thoughts of the gathering darkness left her in favor of something far lighter.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite dance partner,” she exclaimed, laughing as Severus’s face flushed red.

“I’m still angry with you,” he huffed as he took his customary seat.

“Not angry enough to stay away from a stiff drink apparently.”

“After everything you put me through, I believe a stiff drink is well deserved.”

“It was a simple waltz Severus, not the end of the world.”

Fixing her with a glare Severus’s voice slipped into something almost childish – much to Minerva’s joy – as he chided her. “You mortified me.”

“I thought we made a rather dashing pair.”

“You forced me to dance with you in front of the entire school Minerva!”

She hadn’t believed his face could turn a deeper shade of red, but to her delight she found she’d been wrong. Taking pity on the younger man, Minerva ended her taunting. “You did quite well despite you know.” Well really, she had so few sources of fun these days. “I’d say you’ve turned into a proper gentleman Severus.”

“I despise you,” he grumbled.

Unable to contain her laughter, Minerva lost herself in the moment. To her delight her mirth spread to her usually solemn companion. A low chuckling emitted from Severus as he raised a glass in her direction. “To my favorite dance partner and tormentor.”

“I’ll drink to that,” she replied.

For just a moment it seemed as if the darkness would stand at bay for a little while longer.

***

Things had been too calm since Crouch’s death. He should have known it to be the calm before the storm. The third task was well under way when he felt the Mark on his harm burn back into life. A gasp escaped him at the pain of it before he could pull himself back under control. He had to get to Dumbledore. Immediately.

Turning from his patrol of the maze’s borders, he went to find the Headmaster and ran directly into Moody.

“In a hurry to get somewhere Snape?” Moody growled as he stood firmly in Severus’s past.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I am,” Severus snapped. “So, if you’d be so kind as to get out of my way.”

Both of Moody’s eyes fixed themselves onto him, sending an involuntary shiver up his spine. “What could be so important that you’d leave your post?”

Severus pulled himself to his full height. “Nothing you need concern yourself with.”

“Seeing a man with your history turning tail and scurrying away is generally something I like to concern myself with.”

"I'm not turning tail nor am I scurrying anywhere Moody. And frankly I don't have time to deal with a washed up ex-auror right now, so do move out of the way."

"No time?" Moody questioned, malice leaking out of his mouth as he spoke. "Old scars acting up? Burning away to get your attention?"

Severus's blood ran cold at the accusation. How could the man know?

"You're not quite the actor you believe yourself to be I’m afraid. And if it's your intention to flee then I will be stopping you."

"I was on my way to Dumbledore," Severus bristled. Rage boiled within him, but he was well practiced in masking such traitorous emotions. "Until you began wasting my time with these pitiful accusations."

Moody shot him what might have once been a dangerous smile, but the scars across his face turned the look into something nightmarish. "Then lead the way."

Severus rankled but chose not to dignify such a comment with an answer. Pushing past the infuriating man, Severus continued on his way ignoring the blow to his pride. Knowing that beyond anything else he had to get to Dumbledore. The Dark Lord had returned.

***

Sirius Black. The bastard had returned to haunt him once more. And worse than that, Dumbledore was apparently in league with the mutt. Had been in the league, for a while now. Severus would rather endure another year with the bloody werewolf than shake that man’s hand again.

Working with Sirius Black could only lead to one or both of their deaths.

The knowledge that he'd be seeing more of Black drove Severus into enough of a range that he almost looked forward to seeing the Dark Lord instead. Almost. The rational part of his mind remained absolutely terrified. Fear wove its way through him, latching onto his every cell. Coming ever so close to paralyzing him. Regardless of the eventual outcome, the Dark Lord wouldn't react well to seeing him.

To all eyes apparent, he was a traitor. The traitor. The man who'd led the most feared wizard in the world to the Potter's and ultimately to the Dark Lord’s destruction. How many of his fellow Death Eaters had already used his name to further their own repentance?

Worse than even that, he’d spent the last thirteen years in Dumbledore's pocket. Going so far as to hinder the Dark Lord plans on two occasions. No amount of information or connections would save him from that retribution.

Closing the Hospital Wing doors behind him with finality, Severus saw that he'd have one more person to go through before facing the Dark Lord once again.

“You’re going to him.”

It hadn't been a question, but Severus nodded all the same. Worry creased the lines of Minerva's face as they looked at one another across the gulf between them. His oldest remaining friend, if one could call them such, had stayed to bid him farewell. Her actions meant more to him than any words ever could.

Minerva took several hesitant steps towards him, breaching the distance. “It’s foolish of me to tell you to be careful.”

“And I’ve never taken you for a fool,” Severus smirked.

“Perhaps just this once then, you’ll allow it,” she continued, earnestly attempting to mask her concern as flippancy. “Do be so good as to return to us.”

“I will do my utmost so as not leave another staff vacancy to be filled,” Severus answered with a similar air. “I know how much you hate paperwork.”

“Yes, it would be trying, attempting to find someone else to terrify the first years. And you’re already so well acclimated to the position it would be a shame to lose you.”

“And who else would you mooch good whiskey from?”

“The true meaning behind my caution, of course.”

The two companions shared a smile that met neither pair of eyes. This wasn’t goodbye. It couldn’t be.

Severus inclined his head and moved to walk past his long-standing friend, but the older woman place a hand on his shoulder and gripped tightly before he could take a step. “Don’t get yourself killed Severus,” she ordered. “I would miss you.”

Unable to do anything more than nod, Severus pulled away from her and walked purposefully towards his fate. If his steps held a little less weight, then only the Potions Master noticed.

A tight ball formed in Minerva’s stomach as she watched her young friend stride down the corridor. Black cloak billowing behind him, Severus looked every inch the part he was meant to portray. However, she had a sneaking suspicion that that was all there was to it these days. A role to play, an act to carry out. Severus Snape had far too much courage and character to truly be a Death Eater.

And it would be a horrible shame for him to die as such tonight. Sending up every prayer she knew, Minerva turned away to play her part in this war. Hoping against all hope that she’d still have a drinking partner at the end of this horrific evening.

***

Once again, fear curled its resilient tendrils around Severus as the young man made his way up the drive to the large manor house. The moment he’d been dreading since he first noticed the mark’s return had arrived. He could remember being this scared only once before. In the weeks immediately following his turn from the Dark Lord, he’d been terrified of Lily’s death. He’d awaited the moment with the certainty that Dumbledore would protect her and the dread that he’d fail. The night she’d died his worst fears had been realized and Severus had believed that he’d left such weakness as terror behind then and there. What could he suffer that was worse than that night?

Unfortunately, he’d been devastatingly wrong.

Walking towards the Dark Lord, towards the possibility of certain torture and potential death, filled him with that same dread and anxiety. Though his own life might hold little value, his role in this war meant everything. If he couldn’t convince the Dark Lord of his loyalty tonight, then the light would be fighting blind. And that simply wasn’t an option.

The lightness he’d felt at Minerva’s encouragement fled as Severus came face to face with the face of his nightmares once more.

“Severus my friend,” called the high voice he’d hoped to never hear again. “I must confess that I'm surprised to see you.”

The Dark Lord looked the same the last time Severus had been in his presence. Kneeling quickly at the man’s feet, Severus pulled his occlumency shields in place and groveled. “My Lord, I beg your forgiveness at my tardiness. It is not voluntary but born of necessity.”

Voldemort allowed the Cruciatus Curse to be his answer. Severus writhed in pain on the floor but refused to cry out. He couldn’t be seen as weak in this moment – or any for that manner. After several agonizing minutes the curse ended.

“You have much to answer for.”

Pulling himself slowly to his knees and keeping his head bowed, Severus nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

The Dark Lord rose from the chair he’d occupied since Severus’s arrival and began stalking the floor around his Death Eater. The few Death Eater’s present in the room watched in eager anticipation. Severus hated the lot of them. Shoving his resentment and fear into a dark corner of his mind, Severus waited the Dark Lord’s next question.

“Are you here to claim that your loyalties do not in fact rest with Albus Dumbledore,” Voldemort’s tone implied faint disappointment mingled in with his rising anger.

“I remain your faithful servant, my Lord,” Severus pleaded.

“That remains to be seen.” Voldemort circled him as predator might its prey. Toying subtly with the lesser being while deliberating the best manner in which to land a killing blow. “You provided me with information which led to the destruction of my body. You did not search for me in these past thirteen years. As a matter of fact, you hindered me on multiple occasions. You’ve consorted with Dumbledore and his ilk, comfortably I might add, and tonight you arrive too late to be of any use.”

Tension pooled around his body as the Dark Lord listed his sins to the captive audience. Before Severus could say a word in his defense, the Dark Lord’s wand was on him once more and he found himself thrashing in agony for the second time in less than fifteen minutes. Tonight, wasn’t going to go well.

“Explain yourself,” said Voldemort as he released the spell.

Gasping for breath, Severus slowly righted himself. “My Lord, I can only beg your forgiveness for not searching for you. I like, so many others, fell into the lie that you had been defeated. Despite Dumbledore’s insistence that you may someday return, I am ashamed to admit that I did not believe it. I am, however, humbled and delighted to be proven wrong.”

Voldemort interrupted before he could get any further. “Yes, Dumbledore. The root of our little problem. He believed I would return and yet not one of those claiming to be my most faithful followers believed it possible.” The Dark Lord tutted, eyes cast to all who stood in the room. “Not even you Severus. And you, unlike the others who deemed such ideas worthy of consideration, you took refuge with the man sworn to see my end.”

Fury rolled from the dark wizard in waves. Little had gone right for Voldemort this evening and it seemed as if he finally had a target worthy of being punished. The Dark Lord’s wand cracked like a whip as he shot yet another curse at his prone servant. Power slammed into Severus’s chest leaving several open gashes along his torso. He found that he was unable to contain his cry this time.

Falling onto his hands and knees, Severus groaned. “My allegiance has always been to you my Lord. It’s true that I kept the position at Hogwarts to stay out of Azkaban. Had I known that you were behind the two attempts at the school, I would have found a way to support you. I can only beg ignorance and foolishness on those two accusations.

“But I come to you now with thirteen years of knowledge on Dumbledore and the Order.” Severus pled his case, praying that it would be enough to stem the man’s anger rage. “I also have the old man’s trust. Which is a commodity I freely offer to you. Allow me to continue spying on him my Lord. He believes my ruse wholeheartedly.”

Voldemort paused in his circling. Hungry calculation gleamed from the Dark Lord’s eyes. “Show me.”

Making eye contact for the first time that evening, Severus prepared himself for the onslaught he knew would come.

***

Battered and bleeding, the weary Potions Master made his way back to the grand castle. Thankful to still be alive if not exactly well. In his stumbling stupor, Severus never saw the tabby cat which sat poised near his office door. Minerva had sat in the same position all evening and knew that she’d pay for it in aching joints later. But it had been well worth the discomfort to learn that Hogwarts would not be searching for a Potions Master this spring. Though Severus had obviously had a rough night, he had arrived back home alive. And for now, that would have to be enough.

Slipping quietly through the door he’d left cracked, Minerva continued her vigil over her young charge throughout the night and following day. As the sun rose, the castle began stirring as life continued marching on. Voldemort had returned and now the real battle would begin.


	6. Meetings, Sneaks, and the Toad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! So, the book five chapter has gotten out of control. I’ve reached somewhere around twenty pages worth of material and I’m still going strong. Because of the length of this chapter, I’ve made the decision to split it into two (potentially even three) parts. I decided not to wait any longer for this portion of the chapter, on the very possible chance that I can’t find time to finish up book five this month. If things go well, book five will be finished by the end of the month, it not then I’ll see you guys in March! Until then I hope you guys enjoy some Order Meeting fun!
> 
> I do want to take a quick moment to say thank you to everyone who is sticking with this story. You guys really mean the world to me and inspire me to keep writing during this ridiculously busy time of my life. You are the reason that I keep writing. On that note, please feel free to drop me a comment (my life source) and let me know what you think! Hope you enjoy and, as always, see you guys in the next chapter!

From his stance at the head of the large table Dumbledore’s piercing blue eyes tracked the room, holding the gaze of each person they met. It had been several years since such a gathering and the old man was equal parts saddened and delighted to see so many familiar faces together once again. True, there were many gaping holes where others had once sat. Those unfairly lost to the ravages of an unjust war. But those holes had been filled by others destined and determined to stand against the greatest evil of their generation.

Pride stirred within Dumbledore’s heart as he looked out upon those who’d chosen to join the Order of the Phoenix. Some of the men and women surrounding him sacrificed much by taking up arms. Many risked their livelihoods, their jobs, their families, and their lives simply to do what was right. Because they had faith in his leadership.

Humbled beyond comprehension Dumbledore cleared his throat bringing attention to himself and silencing the low rumbling of discussion. “I must begin with the old adage that it is wonderful to see so many of you gathered together once more and that I only wish it could be under different circumstances. The Order has not met in full capacity since that dreadful night so many years ago when we lost two of our number but defeated Voldemort.”

Grim faces surrounded the table at his mentions of the Potters. Remus and Sirius shared a grieved look across the table, while Minerva and Alastor both shook their heads in distaste at the loss. Dumbledore’s eyes lingered on his Potions Master sitting alone in a dark corner of the room. Though the younger man’s face never lost its collected look, an old agony shone from his black eyes. A look Dumbledore alone could see or interpret correctly.

“Tonight’s meeting has been necessitated by recent events,” the Headmaster continued. “One week ago, Voldemort returned to full power using the blood of Harry Potter. I am assuming since each of you answered my call you believe this disturbing news and are prepared to begin combating Voldemort’s rise to power.”

Nods and encouraging looks of acceptance greeted him from around the room. “That is well and good because we have much to do and very little time to act. I will not regale you of the full details of Voldemort’s return, but it is imperative that you know his Death Eaters still roaming free have returned to him in full.”

At his words Sirius shot an accusing glare at Severus which the Potions Master returned with equal disdain. Sighing inwardly, Dumbledore reached up to adjust his half-moon spectacles. Some relationships, it seemed, would never properly mend despite the time allotted to them.

“The Ministry refuses to acknowledge Voldemort’s return and will turn a blind eye to any and all Death Eater activity over the next year or so. Until Voldemort chooses to make himself known, we are all that stands between Voldemort and the rest of the Wizarding World. For many of you this will mean putting your jobs, lives, and families in jeopardy.”

He paused to allow that information to sink in. He could not ask them to risk themselves without full knowledge of what they were doing. Tellingly no one in the room so much as flinched or looked away. They already knew.

“If you chose to walk away after this meeting then no one here will believe any differently of you. This is not a venture to take lightly but it is one that is needed. We cannot stand by and allow Voldemort to destroy everything we’ve worked so hard to build. To take innocent lives without resistance.”

Affirmation sang in the air around those gathered in the old kitchen of Grimmauld Place. The men and women gathered here would not shirk from the duty they’d signed on for. They would fight to the bitter end for what was good and what was right.

Dumbledore provided them with a sad smile. “Down to business then.”

***

“Yes Black, please regale us with your assuredly enlightening opinion on the matter,” Severus sneered at his archrival. “We all know how you like to feel included here instead of risking your skin elsewhere.”

Black scowled darkly at him in return, hatred etched in every line of the young man’s face. “As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted, if we know that Voldemort” – Severus shivered at the use of his old master’s name – “wants something we should go after it. Bring it somewhere safe. Where we can control every aspect of its protection.”

Severus rolled his eyes as the other members of the Order began running through the old argument once again. Tedious Order meetings such as these made him thankful that he’d only ever reported directly to Dumbledore in the previous war. An hour had passed and so far, all they’d managed to do was argue, once again, over how to handle the blasted prophecy. Not for the first time, he wished he’d never heard of it. That he could be as clueless as the rest of them as to just how significant the few words between Trelawney and Dumbledore were. But alas, he knew far too well the importance of such an object.

The Dark Lord had been adamant about procuring the prophecy from the Department of Ministries. As spy to both the Order and the Death Eaters, Severus was privy to each attempt to both secure and protect the object. After his loyalty had been brought into question once again, he’d provided the Dark Lord with the Order’s guard schedules and in turn he’d provided the Order with any information he could about potential upcoming attacks.

A matter which direly needed to be addressed.

Rolling his eyes, Severus allowed his gaze to wander the room. As they roved, another pair of exasperated eyes met his line of sight. Minerva shot him a frustrated look. In addition to the tight line of her lips, he took it that the Head of Gryffindor was just as disenfranchised by this meeting as he was. Sharing his misery with another seemed to lighten the Professor’s mood ever so slightly.

 _Drinks after_? He mouthed to his long-standing partner in crime.

He received a curt nod from the woman in question. Reveling in the promise of a brighter end to the evening, Severus cleared his throat in order to gain the room’s attention. As many in the room had either been his student at some point or been on the receiving end of his biting temper, everyone fell silent.

“As enlightening as this argument is, shouldn’t we move on to something more pertinent?”

Black, of course, responded first. “I’m sorry Snape are we boring you?”

Sitting slightly straighter in his seat, Severus allowed his frustration to edge into his words. “Now that you mention it, yes. Thank you for caring Black.”

“Perhaps you’d like to discuss something more relevant such as which stockings the Dark Lord prefers,” Black quipped to the amusement of several in the room.

“He doesn’t wear stockings Black. If you’ll recall we discussed that in a prior meeting. Along with the proper way to dust a curio cabinet,” said Severus. “Actually, on second thought, that might have been your griping about the only useful thing you’ve managed to do these past few weeks.”

“Better purifying this place of its ilk than kissing the feet of a mass murderer.”

Before Severus could respond in kind, Dumbledore’s voice drew both men back from their bickering. “Severus,” the old man intoned politely, “was there something you wished to discuss?”

Taking in a calming breath, Severus nodded. “Yes, Albus in fact there is. The Dark Lord is planning something involving those guarding the prophecy. I’ve not been made aware of the details, but I’m certain that it will occur soon.”

“How enlightening. Glad you weren’t too vague on the details because that would have been maddeningly frustrating.” Black mumbled.

Ignoring the other man, Severus ploughed ahead. “I would recommend checking every person who has performed or is scheduled to have guard duty for the span of two weeks. Look for any signs of the Imperius Curse or Polyjuice.”

Piercing blue eyes met his over the tops of steepled fingers. Severus brought the odd conversation he’d had with the Dark Lord revealing such plans to the forefront of his mind, allowing Dumbledore to see why he believed this potential threat to be of such importance. “I think that is a wise decision Severus.”

Black shot him a murderous scowl which Severus returned in kind. Questions and whispers began whipping back and forth across the room as the Order members digested this new information. None would be happy with his suggestions or his news, but then he’d never particularly cared what they thought of him anyway.

The rest of the meeting passed in a stream of pointless comments, asinine questions, and petty arguments with a few snide comments tossed between Black and Severus just for good measure. By the end of the meeting the only positive aspect of the evening where the murderous glares Black continued to shoot at him.

After finally being dismissed, Severus strolled past the brainless Order members towards his drinking partner who stood in deep conversation with Amelia Bones. He stopped to wait for Minerva in the shadows provided by a large china cabinet. Madam Bones – along with several others – hadn’t taken too kindly to Severus’s inclusion in the Order. To be fair though, the intimidating woman had been present for both his interrogation and trials as a Death Eater. And he certainly hadn’t endeared himself to any Ministry officials involved in either of those events.

His sharp tongue and short temper had caused he and Dumbledore a world of trouble with the Aurors and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Dumbledore had been furious to have his Potions Master arrested in the first place and the Aurors questioning tactics left much to be desired. The whole fiasco had been one disaster after another.

Yes, it was best for both parties that he stayed as far from Amelia Bones as possible.

Unfortunately, his decision to linger and not interrupt left him standing idle and alone. Something that appeared suspicious to one Sirius Black.

“I expected you to be the first out the door Snape,” the man barked as he approached.

“And deny myself the pleasure of watching you clean up after the meeting?” Severus fired back.

“Hoping to gain a few tips or instructions?” Black leered. “If you really want to see something wild, I’ve got a bottle of shampoo in the upstairs bath.”

Despite the rage that filled him, Severus did his best to keep a calm façade. “Use that to wash away the smell of mongrel, do you?” His accompanying sneer was mostly implied.

“You’d know something about that wouldn’t you? Spending so many years as Malfoy’s half-blood lapdog.” Black made a show of sniffing him before continuing. “Or maybe not.”

“Did you need something Black? I realize that you have nothing but time, but unlike you the rest of us have actual responsibilities to see to.”

“That’s right you have another master to run to nowadays don’t you.”

“To the front of the class Black, how very astute an observation from you. But then, you’d know most of those who keep his company. Almost be a family reunion for you.”

Black stepped in close, forcing Severus to turn his back into the corner provided by the cabinet. Black’s voice turned menacingly quiet. “Just so we're clear Snape, I don't trust you.”

Refusing to be cowed, Severus replied with his usual amount of snark. “Oh, Black you wound me. Here I thought we’d be best of friends by the end of the night.”

Black ignored his quip and leaned in even closer until their noses almost touched. “I don't know how you managed to convince Dumbledore that you're not a snake in the grass, but I see through it.”

“Yes, nothing gets past you does it?” Severus answered, leveling Black with a hard look and daring him to try something.

“You'll slip up Sniv,” Black continued, noting with glee as undisguised fury flashed across Severus’s face at the use of his old nickname, “and when you do, I'll be the first in line to make you pay.”

“And I'm sure the Dark Lord in all his power has nothing on the last heir of the noble and ancient House of Black.” Though darker thoughts began to win out over his sanity, Severus kept himself in check. It wasn’t proper manners or sense to murder your host in front of a room full of witnesses. 

Luckily, Minerva chose that moment to interject herself into their standoff. “Alright boys?”

“Minerva,” Severus acknowledged without taking his eyes off Black, “Black here was just extoling his detecting capabilities. He’s apparently similar to a dog with a bone when he catches a scent.”

A flash of humor present in her expression Minerva turned an exasperated look on Black. “While I’m certain that your skills are admirable, I’m not certain that this is the appropriate time to extoll such virtues. Surely that’s better saved for the meetings themselves?”

Though mistrust lingered in Black’s gaze as he looked away, his whole demeanor changed at Minerva’s presence. “You know me Minnie,” Black said flashing a supposedly charming smile at the Head of Gryffindor, “I don’t give anything up easily. Thought Snape here could use a few pointers on how to track down this supposed plot against our guards.”

“I’m sure he appreciates your input Mr. Black,” Minerva responded before turning to Severus. “But if you don’t mind Severus and I have an appointment at the school to keep.”

Suspicion danced through the air between the three of them as Black’s eyes flashed between the two professors. “Well I’ll leave you two be then.” Black’s voice turned hard as he acknowledged Severus once again. “Remember what I said Snape. One slip up is all it takes.”

With that advice left behind, Sirius Black strode away leaving a silently fuming Severus and an exhausted Minerva in his wake.

As the two professors headed out into the night, Minerva broke the silence first. “I take it Sirius was in the middle of threatening you when I walked up.” Her tone left little doubt that her words held no question in them.

Severus nodded anyway. “Black is of the opinion that my allegiance lies with the Dark Lord instead of Dumbledore.”

“He’ll come around Severus-”

“He’s not alone in his belief.”

“They’ll all come around,” Minerva responded quickly with a note of finality. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she forced him to come to a stop. When the Potions Master faced her, Minerva could see hatred etched into the lines of his face. Once upon a time she might not have noticed how much the mistrust of the others bothered him, but now… She knew him too well. “Severus, they don’t know you-”

“Lupin and Black most certainly do,” Severus interrupted only to be silenced by a scowl from Minerva.

“No, they don’t. I know you three will never be fast friends, but we are all on the same side. If you extend nothing but hatred to them then don’t expect anything else in return.” When Severus looked as though he was about to interrupt again, she ploughed ahead. “You have it within you to be the better man Severus. I know that you do. You don’t have to become friendly with them; however, if you were to drop the antagonism, they would have no grounds to continue attacking you.”

“You expect me to tuck tail?” He seethed.

“No, I’m asking you to be the adult.”

Severus took several moments to respond. His black eyes penetrated her own, leaving her with the feeling that he was desperately searching to find something damning in her reasoning. When he finally did answer, his voice was softer than anything she’d heard all night. “For you, I will try with Lupin. But I’m afraid where Sirius Black is concerned you are fighting a losing battle.”

Taking her gains where she could, Minerva grinned widely. “That will be enough to be getting along with then. Now if you don’t mind, I find that I’m now in desperate need of sturdy drink.”

His answering smile – small though it was – brightened Minerva’s. The two companions apparated back to Hogwarts with the soul intention of drowning their evening in a bottle of whiskey.

***

"Minnie my love!" Sirius Black exclaimed as she walked into the dining room of Grimmauld Place. "I've been counting down the hours since last we met."

The young man gave her a cheeky grin while he kissed both her cheeks in greeting.

"Surely you have better uses of your time Mr. Black," she replied. Though she projected exasperation through her words, a touch of that infuriating amusement snuck in as well.

"Something better than thinking about my beloved?" He winked while winding his arm gently through hers and leading her to the table. "There is no such thing."

The young man went so far as to pull out her chair for her before slinging himself into the one beside her. Azkaban may have added a haunted look to Sirius Black, but that didn’t stop mischief from gleaming out of every pore of his body. Some of the cocksure teenager he’d once been reasserted itself in the way he slouched lazily in his seat. He did cut a rather dashing and daring figure. And had she been some thirty years younger… _Absolutely not Minerva_ , her common sense reasserted itself firmly.

"I am not your beloved Mr. Black," she repeated for what must have been the 700th time.

"Minnie, how could you say such a thing?" Overly dramatic as always, the young man threw a hand over his heart and feigned a hurt that on anyone else might have been convincing. "I thought I meant more to you than that."

Luckily another voice interrupted before Black could get on stride. "Just ignore him Minerva," Remus advised as he slid into the seat beside her.

Minerva sighed. "I would if I thought it would do any good."

"Might shut him up for a few minutes," Remus said.

"Has it ever worked for you?"

An amused shake of his head confirmed her suspicions. Meanwhile Sirius looked as if he'd had his heart ripped from his chest.

"Moony my brother, don't tell me you're trying to come between me and Minnie? I love you but I would have to choose the woman who holds my heart."

Remus ran a hand through greying hair before giving his friend the best advice he could. "I'd zip it before she realizes I won't stop her from hexing you to next week."

Sirius batted the air in a job-believing fashion. "She won't hex me. She loves me. It's all part of the game Moony," Sirius winked at Minerva. "I come on strong, she plays hard to get. All part of the appeal."

"Your only appeal," Minerva supplied, "is that every now and then your mouth actually closes."

If possible, the stupid grin on his face grew wider. "See what I'm talking about. She finds me appealing."

Thankfully, Dumbledore chose that moment to walk in and begin the meeting. While the young man at her side seemed to take the time before and after meetings as one huge joke, he remained riveted throughout the event itself. Voicing well considered, if sometimes brash, ideas and keeping those with their minds on the big picture honest to the people they led.

Despite all that had been said about and done to him, Sirius Black was a good man. A better man than she’d ever expected the rebellious teenager to become.

As the meeting droned on, Minerva felt her eyes growing heavy and her mind wandering. Though many in the room held the titles of the best and brightest, they could be very trivial and ask ridiculously stupid questions at times. No wonder Severus held no patience for these gatherings.

Almost as if her thoughts had summoned him, a black clad figure slid silently into the room. His face was drawn and pale and upon closer inspection she could see the slight trembling of his hands. Severus had mentioned that he’d be missing most of tonight’s meeting in order to further ingratiate himself to his other master. Apparently, that plan hadn’t gone so well.

Shooting him a string of worried glances, Minerva finally managed to catch his eye. The slight quirk of his mouth at her attention did little to comfort the Transfiguration professor. When his stare turned cold, Minerva realized that her scrutiny of him had drawn the notice of Sirius Black.

It seemed that peace between those two was too much of an ask.

An hour later the meeting drew to a close. Brushing past Molly Weasley as the other woman headed to the kitchen, Minerva made her way to the reclusive Potions Master at the back of the room. However, before she could take more than a few steps, Dumbledore called out to her.

“Minerva,” the Headmaster repeated politely as he caught up to her. “I was hoping that you and Severus would remain for a while longer this evening. There is something I wish to discuss that I would like your and Severus’s advice on.”

“Of course, Albus,” she agreed. “Shall I intercept our dour Potions Masters before he manages to escape?”

The ever-present twinkle in the Headmaster’s eyes seemed to shine brighter at her humor. “Please feel free. I’m almost certain that he will take the news better from you than he might from me.”

“On the contrary, I rather believe I will get more of an earful than you.”

“Then it is the perfect excuse for him to disparage me without my knowledge,” Dumbledore chuckled before moving to intercept Sirius and Remus.

Renewing her search for Severus, Minerva turned just in time to see the ends of a black cloak flit down the corridor. She caught him as he was reaching for the front door. “Severus,” she called out, effectively stopping his attempt to flee.

“Good evening Minerva,” he answered in a hoarse voice, not bothering to face her. “I apologize, but I’m in a bit of a rush to get back to the castle.”

“Unfortunately, neither of us have that option this evening,” she lamented. “Albus would like our advice on a few other matters.”

Severus’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “The Headmaster can ask for my advice at any time. Must it be in this moment?”

“He insisted that it was important,” Minerva lied (Or stretched the truth really. Albus wouldn’t have asked them to stay if it wasn’t important). “Though he did mention that you might have a few negative words to say about him. So, I do suggest you go ahead and get those out here and now before we head back.

A bleak silence met her attempt at cheek. When Severus turned to walk to the kitchen once again, Minerva stopped him. Exhaustion curled around the man like a heavy cloak. She didn’t miss the slightest wince as she placed a hand on his shoulder. Whatever had happened to her friend prior to the Order meeting had obviously not been for the betterment of his health.

“Severus,” Minerva started, “you look like death itself.”

The tiniest bit of humor creased the edges of his face. “I did hope to freshen up, but as I mentioned I'm in a bit of a rush.”

“Yes well, walking such a fine line would leave anyone in such shape.” Minerva paused, unsure if her next question would push the boundaries of their friendship too far. Her Gryffindor nerve won out in the end. “I take it your appointment with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did not go well this evening?”

A darkness that she wasn’t accustomed too filled the Order’s spy. Times such as this served as a reminder of just how dangerous Severus could be.

“It went as well as expected,” he surmised.

When he offered nothing more, Minerva gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “Might as well get this over with quickly then.”

Leading the way back into the dining room, she couldn’t help the occasional stolen glances at her companion. Whatever Dumbledore wanted from them, she hoped it truly wouldn't take long.

The two professors re-entered the kitchen just as Dumbledore called the attention of those gathered. Minerva took the seat next to Severus earning a sharp scowl from Sirius for her actions. Remus, Molly, Arthur, and Moody as well as a few dozen others sat around the table as well, attention focused on the Headmaster.

"I do apologize for holding you later than normal," Dumbledore began. "Hopefully we can settle this matter with haste and send you all on your way."

Severus huffed beside her and Minerva found herself in agreement with him. No Order meeting – full or not – could ever be considered a quick matter.

Apparently noting the disbelief of his professors, a sheepish smile spread across Dumbledore's face. "At least as quickly as possible under the circumstances. As most of you are aware, Harry arrived earlier this evening. He's had an eventful few days, but he will be staying here for the remainder of the summer."

"Oh joy," Severus mumbled just loud enough for her to hear.

"Which leads us to our current discussion. With Harry staying at headquarters, he will have a litany of questions and concerns. What we need to come to consensus on is how to handle such queries." With his introduction concluded, Dumbledore leaned back in his seat effectively opening the floor for discussion.

Unsurprisingly, Sirius made his opinion known first. "Harry should know everything. Within reason," he added hastily as he received looks of alarm from around the table

“Harry is a child,” Molly Weasley reasoned from her spot opposite Sirius, “and should not be treated any differently. We don’t let the others know about what happens in Order Meetings, we shouldn’t let Harry either.”

Minerva’s eyes narrowed at that. Though Molly was notorious for coddling the boy, Minerva had hoped that recent events would pull the woman away from such habits. “Potter may be young,” Minerva said, “but he has proven himself capable of reasoning through situations most adults would not be able to handle. It might be wise to allow him answers to a few of his certainly numerous questions.”

Severus’s responding snort from beside her rankled the Head of Gryffindor. “I don’t think dumb luck qualifies as reasoning Minerva,” he added in a low voice probably meant only for her ears, but unfortunately carried to one Sirius Black.

“Minerva’s right,” Sirius said shooting a deathly glare at Severus. “Harry has proven himself time and time again. He shouldn’t be treated as a child.”

Moody leaned forward slightly in his seat. “It would be beneficial to send Potter back to Hogwarts with some idea of what he might face this year. Otherwise, we’re sending You-Know-Who’s biggest target in blind. The boy should know enough to keep him out of trouble.”

“But not too much, else he’ll seek it for himself,” Severus drawled.

Minerva thought that had such a comment come from anyone else at the table, Sirius might have agreed with such a statement. However, the long-standing hatred between the two men meant he took Severus’s words as a criticism of his godson.

“Trouble usually manages to find him, not the other way around,” Sirius growled.

Severus’s retort was filled with the same venom as Sirius’s had been. “Obviously you have not spent nearly enough time with Potter, Black. He actively seeks attention and usually finds it by planting himself in the worst possible situations. Uncannily like his father.”

A muscle clenched in Sirius’s jaw as he looked on his enemy with hatred. “James didn’t need to seek attention either. People generally liked him because he, unlike some people, wasn’t a greasy git. So yeah, Harry is a bit like James in that.”

Tension lingered palpably in the air, thick enough to cut with a dull knife. Sensing the tense set of Severus’s shoulders, Minerva attempted to divert the attention of the two warring men. “Moody’s right. Potter will safer if he has some amount of information. We can’t send him back to Hogwarts blind. Especially not with the gossip mill that tends to run rampant within those halls.”

Kingsley nodded, speaking up for the first time. “There are many students whose parents have political leanings that align with the Death Eaters-”

“Not to mention exposure to actual Death Eaters and their children,” Sirius interjected unhelpfully. His eyes still boring a hole into Severus.

Kingsley continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “-it would be unwise to allow the student body to inform Harry instead of us.”

“He’s just a boy!” a red-faced Molly Weasley exclaimed, unable to hold back any longer. “He’s lost enough of his childhood already. He shouldn’t concern himself with all of this.”

“Molly,” Remus said placatingly, lying a hand on the disgruntled mother’s shoulder. “Harry is a part of this. More a part of this than most of us. He has to know some of what’s going on.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Lupin is right,” Severus affirmed. “Potter is the one the Dark Lord is after. Like it or not, his role in this fight is apparent. The Dark Lord will attempt to get to him soon-”

“That sounds an awful lot like a threat Snape,” Sirius snarled as he leaned across the table.

Severus rolled his eyes obviously exhausted by Black’s antics. “It’s merely a fact Black.”

“Yeah well it sounds to me like-”

“Please enlighten us once again to the enamoring inner workings of that sorry pile of muscle you claim to be a brain. I’m sure it will be riveting,” Severus spat.

Sirius’s chest puffed out as he made to retort, but thankfully Dumbledore intervened. “That’s quite enough for one evening I believe. Harry must be informed of the basic knowledge surrounding the Order. I would rather not mention the prophecy to him at this time. It is imprudent for him to have such knowledge weighing against him this year. Instead I would recommend telling him only that which he absolutely needs to know. Anything more will be tantamount to placing him in imminent danger from those students who have distasteful political leanings.”

With that Dumbledore swept from his chair effectively dismissing the gathered Order members. Severus and Sirius continued staring at each other, pure loathing etched in each of their faces. 

“Come along Severus,” Minerva intoned quietly, giving his arm a gentle tug. She hadn’t expected for the man to flinch at the contact, nor did she expect the hiss of pain as her hand made contact with his left arm.

Turning to face him, she noted that his face had become drawn and pale once more. Something almost close to fear flit through his eyes too quickly for her to properly discern. 

“I must go,” he mumbled quietly so that only she could hear.

The worried look he exchanged with Dumbledore before stalking out the door confirmed her suspicions.

His other master had called him back once again.


	7. Meetings, Sneaks, and the Toad pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnnd we’re back! Hopefully this chapter finds all of you well! Sorry for the slight cliffhanger of last chapter, I didn’t really realize that it was one until it was pointed out to me by the comments. I won’t go on and on as I usually do, but I would like to put in a quick warning. There is a fair amount of language in one portion of this chapter. If that’s not your thing I do apologize, but no one would take the bottle away from Professor Sinistra and that woman really knows how to party. So, without further ado I present part 2 of chapter 6!
> 
> There are a few lines in this chapter pulled directly from OoTP so if you recognize those, that's where they came from. Obviously, I am not JK Rowling and, also obviously, I'm not making money from these two lovely characters.

Mostly empty at this time of year, Hogwarts and her inhabitants sat in a peaceful slumber, awaiting the arrival of its students. This late in the summer, the staffroom remained perfectly empty and quiet. The other professors were either out enjoying their vacation, spending time with their loved ones, or hiding away somewhere within the castle. For Severus and Minerva, days like this meant they had no scruples about getting completely knackered before noon.

Knowing Severus as she did, she knew he’d need a day like this after Potter’s trial. The damnable man just couldn’t find it in himself to congratulate the boy, or their own justice system for actually following the laws it created. Minerva had come prepared with a full bottle of her best scotch and all the patience she could muster.

"So once again the great Harry Potter has escaped unscathed," Severus grumbled from behind his glass. Only the slightest hint of a slur evident in his speech.

"Come now Severus," Minerva chided gently, "don't sound too disappointed that Potter will return this year.”

“I should never have gotten my hopes up," he quipped. Draining his tumbler Severus sighed heavily. "It was too much of an ask for a year without him."

"I'm certain you'll survive. If nothing else take comfort in the knowledge that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was thwarted once more."

Severus cocked an eyebrow at that. "You believe that it was the Dark Lord behind the attack?"

"Of course I do,” Minerva responded curtly as she swirled her drink around the glass. “Two rogue dementors attack the Boy Who Lived. Who else would do such a thing?” It had been the most obvious think in the world, and she couldn’t, for the life of her, understand why he would question such a thing.

Calculation gleamed from the Potion Master’s eyes as he appraised his companion. "Answer me this then, why would the Dark Lord send creatures after the boys rather than his faithful servants? Why would he send anyone at all?

“To be rid of the child who's been a nuisance to him since birth,” Minerva answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Severus nodded. “You’re correct the boy has been a nuisance since birth,” he smirked in an unkind fashion that reminded Minerva of the reasons she’d originally disliked the man across from her. “A thorn in the Dark Lord’s side for years now, to the point that he has a personal vendetta against Potter. One that the Dark Lord wishes to deal with himself. Sending dark creatures after the boy to kill him wouldn't suit the Dark Lord. Not to mention the fact that he has no idea where Potter is. If he knew such things the boy’s relatives would be surrounded and, idiot boy that Potter tends to be, he would have been captured already.”

Severus paused in his reasoning to allow Minerva time to think. And think she did.

How had she missed something so blatantly obvious? Certainly, there were holes in Severus’s logic – perhaps You-Know-Who was simply tired of waiting, or perhaps he had finally discovered the boy’s location and the dementor attack had been the fall out of that event – but the man spoke sense. You-Know-Who wouldn’t have left the boy’s fate to chance unless there was no other option.

And attacking the boy and his cousin in a darkened alley in Surrey didn’t qualify as an event with no other options. But if it hadn’t been You-Know-Who, the who had it been?

As if he’d been following her thoughts exactly, Severus nodded slowly, tracing his lips with a long finger as he watched her think. “But if not the Dark Lord, then who?” he asked. “Quite the little conundrum isn’t it.”

“Surely it would have to be someone with access to the creatures,” Minerva reasoned, not liking where this conversation was leading.

“Exactly. And that is a very concerning notion indeed isn’t it.”

***

Despite the overarching climate of fear and unease that clung to the inhabitants of Hogwarts, Severus had settled into a rhythm of sorts. He spent his weeks teaching and playing the part of hated professor while simultaneously spending his nights and weekends walking the razor edge of Death Eater spy and Order member. All while under the scrutinizing eyes of Dolores Jane Umbridge. The woman he’d begun to hate almost as much as the Dark Lord.

She’d threatened him once already in order to obtain several doses of Veritaserum. A potion most likely to be used on Potter for one reason or another. Though he’d warned her about the legality of such actions, Umbridge had shrugged off his advice. Callously suggesting that if he did not want his own past and current actions scrutinized then he should do as she asked. He doubted the toad-like woman had been clever enough to note that the potion he’d provided her with was not Veritaserum. The potion might have left Potter fatigued after ingestion, but it had no powers of a persuasive nature. 

Despite Severus’s ardent dislike of Potter, he had promised to keep the boy safe. Unfortunately, that promise extended to even the likes of Umbridge.

However, Umbridge hadn’t been his only issue since the beginning of term. The Dark Lord was growing more determined by the day. Patience and a discipline born of being violently torn from his body had left the Dark Lord far deadlier this time around. Each of his actions and plans had been carefully constructed and acted upon only for each to fail miserably. Creating a hostile environment for those Death Eaters unfortunate enough to displease their master. As member of both the Death Eaters and the Order, Severus found himself on that list more often than not.

While he’d been able to provide the Dark Lord with valuable information, that information usually turned into a double-edged sword. He couldn’t allow the Order to suffer too great a loss, but he had to ensure that the Dark Lord felt the intelligence he provided was worthwhile.

Such a strenuous rhythm of life left the Potions Master more drained and irritable than he could ever remember being. The only bright spot of his days were those moments by the staff room fireside every Friday night. He’d continued his weekly meetings with Minerva, in spite of the dangers associated with such familiarity.

He’d reasoned that the dangers associated with breaking that friendship outweighed any benefits. Any Death Eater who questioned the relationship too closely could be forced to understand that breaking away from too many of his prior relationships would lead to uncomfortable questions from the Order. As a spy, it was in his best interest to befriend those closest to Dumbledore. Not even the Dark Lord could refute that.

Which is why Severus found himself awaiting Minerva’s company early this Friday evening. His meetings with the Dark Lord continued to deteriorate as the Death Eater’s continued failing to gain the prophecy. His relationships within the castle and within the Order had never been that positive to begin with. Which meant that Minerva McGonagall was his only saving grace at the moment.

If he found himself eager to enjoy her company, then he could hardly blame himself.

Which is why when said professor entered the staff room accompanied by the Umbridge toad, Severus found his good mood sinking like a stone. Tonight, would not be the reprieve he so desperately needed.

Resigning himself to his fate, Severus pulled on his best scowl as Minerva sat several bottles of butterbeer on the table between them.

“Minerva,” he nodded sharing a significant look with the woman that said more than words ever could.

Unfortunately, Umbridge spoke up before the Head of Gryffindor could. “Good evening, Severus,” the Ministry worker said in that high voice Severus had come to despise. “I ran into Minerva here on her way up and decided to join the two of you this evening. I hope you don’t mind.”

_Of course we mind, you insufferable toad_ , he did not say out loud. “I’m glad you were able to find time in your busy schedule to do so,” Severus said instead.

Minerva’s smirk relayed that she’d caught his sarcasm even if Umbridge hadn’t. “Yes, I was delighted to learn that Dolores was free this evening as well.” The thin set of Minerva’s lips certainly insinuated otherwise. Leaning forward she took a butterbeer from the table and handed it over to Severus before taking one for herself. “Absolutely delighted,” she muttered darkly.

Umbridge simpered as Minerva attempted to hand her a bottle as well. “No thank you Minerva,” the toad said. “I never touch the stuff myself.”

It took every ounce of self-control that Severus possessed to prevent himself from laughing at Minerva’s long-suffering expression. If death could be captured within a glare, he felt certain that the one she shot at Umbridge would have qualified.

“I’ve never really had a taste for alcohol of any sort,” Umbridge continued, ignorant to the tension building within the room. “Too many fine witches and wizards find themselves slaves to the substance.”

Knowing that he shouldn’t, but completely unable to stop himself Severus interjected his own opinion. “It is a shame isn’t it,” he supplied, and he rather thought Minerva’s neck might have cricked with the speed with which she turned her head to him. “I myself never touched the stuff until I came here. Teaching and poor influences will drive a man to try new things.”

“Poor influences indeed,” Umbridge agreed nodding soberly in a manner that only a blind man would have taken seriously. “As I understand it, you were quite young when you gained your position here. I hope none of our illustrious colleagues were the ones who led you astray.”

A sly half smile at Minerva was the only warning he provided. “I’m afraid I cannot assuage your fears Dolores. It was our own Professor McGonagall here who led me down this dark path. Though I do believe I’m her only victim.” He added the last after receiving a murderous scowl from the woman in question.

“You are both aware that there’s not actually any alcohol in butterbeer right?” Minerva snapped.

“There was plenty of alcohol in the fire whiskey you brought me that night,” Severus quipped.

Minerva’s following glare was finally deadly enough to silence him for the remainder of the evening. Though the sharp pain in his foot as the woman subtly ground her heel into it almost made him reconsider. Unfortunately, Umbridge had no such compunctions. 

“Minerva, I’m shocked that you would willingly pressure someone so young into such a filthy habit,” Umbridge somehow succeeded in keeping her voice on the fine line between scolding and teasingly scandalized. If Severus had liked the woman he might even be impressed.

“Yes,” Minerva managed not to snap, “well give it a month or so and you too might change your tune Dolores.”

“I rather doubt it dear. Though rumor has it that you two have created quite the little habit of such meetings every week.”

The words seemed innocent enough, but Severus hadn’t achieved his position as a double agent without the ability to pick up on thinly veiled threats. And though she covered herself well, the slight disapproval in Umbridge’s tone and the knowing way in which she leaned towards them did little to hide her true intentions for this evening.

Placing his empty bottle onto the table, Severus acted before Minerva could dig herself into a hole of indignation. “You’ll soon discover how pertinent it is to have a confidant to complain to and grade essays with. Minerva and I have spent many a weekend in this very room doing just that. It is necessary for survival as a professor.”

Umbridge’s eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. “And yet none of the other professors feel the need to join the two of you? That’s not very collegiate of them is it?”

Dangerous waters indeed.

“Several other professors have joined us over the years,” Minerva responded coldly. “However, Severus and I have committed to meeting up each week – which tends to be rather beneficial for our respective positions as Head of House – while the others merely join us on occasion or meet up at different times. It isn’t such an oddity as you seem to believe, Dolores.”

“That’s quite the commitment. I didn’t realize that the two of you enjoyed such a close relationship,” Umbridge supplied.

Severus was about to respond that it didn’t take a relationship for two colleagues to find themselves in the same space each week, but Minerva got there first.

“Severus and I have known each other for years,” she said. “We’ve been through several staff changes and students together. That does tend to breed such a friendship.”

Though he didn’t allow his shock to show on his face, Severus was beyond touched at her proclamation. He’d long considered Minerva as the closest thing to a friend as he could have. But he’d never held onto the notion that she felt the same way. Sure, she’d helped him through some difficult times and had been there for him through the years, but he’d always assumed that she chalked it up to her duty. Apparently, he’d been wrong.

“You’re still rather new Dolores,” Severus responded after he’d recovered. “You’ll develop similar relationships as you work.”

“I certainly hope I’ll find Hogwarts as companionable as you two seem to.”

With that enigmatic phrase, Umbridge excused herself and left the professors to their thoughts.

“I dislike her on a cellular level,” Minerva admitted when they were certain the toad was gone.

The corner of Severus’s mouth twitched ever so slightly towards a smile. “I had picked up on that.”

“You’re dead to me by the way.”

“I just wanted to help her feel included,” Severus argued playfully. “Showing her the more human side of the stern Head of Gryffindor.”

“Dead. To. Me.”

This time Severus couldn’t hold back his chuckle. A flick of his wand turned the abominable butterbeer into something far stronger allowing the two companions to finally enjoy their evening.

*******

“So, are we placing bets on who’s sacked first or are we actively trying to be the first ones kicked out?” Severus asked in the dry, witty manner for which he was so well known.

Minerva cast him a disapproving look over her glass. “This is a serious matter Severus,” she chided. “The Ministry has infiltrated the school and Fudge is using that position to undermine Dumbledore at every possible turn. Not really the sort of thing you should joke about.”

The infuriating Potions Master merely shrugged in response. “I’m not joking at all. Merely attempting to discover our position in the current matter. I’d hate to waste good money on a strong candidate only to lose because you’ve decided to infuriate the newest staff member.”

“You’re impossible,” Minerva answered. However, despite her best attempts, she couldn’t contain the smile that quirked across her face at Severus’s quips.

“Just trying to figure out who’s the smart money this time around.”

Minerva leaned back into her armchair heavily. Exasperated at their current predicament and only slightly annoyed by her colleague’s mocking attitude, the Head of Gryffindor ran a hand across her face. She’d known this year would be challenging to say the least. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned and was currently gaining power and followers while the Ministry chose to remain oblivious.

The reinstatement of the Order of the Phoenix and the carefully laid plans of the summer had given her hope that they could possibly gain an upper hand. However, the return to Hogwarts and subsequent shows of Ministry corruption had evaporated those early hopes. Dolores Umbridge currently operated with the full might of the Ministry behind her and yet, the ignorant woman chose to focus on undermining the only man who might be able to orchestrate He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s downfall.

Their situation was rather dire.

“Minerva,” came Severus’s voice, softened in a manner she rarely heard. Apparently, her darkening mood had attracted more notice than she’d intended. Glancing up she noted a hint of worry play around the edges of the man’s expression as his eyebrows furrowed together. “I apologize. I didn’t intend to make light of such a serious matter.”

“It’s alright, Severus,” Minerva assured him. “I need a good chuckle every now and then. Especially these days.”

“Then why the glum face?”

Sighing loudly, she took another swig of liquid courage and decided to openly discuss her fears with the only person who might truly understand. “I feel as though I should be doing more for the cause than bandying words with that impostor of a professor.”

Severus’s face relaxed in the way she’d only seen when they were alone. A look she’d begun attributing to the fact that he did, despite everything, find some measure of trust and comfort in her presence. The look warmed her heart ever so slightly.

“Minerva, you do as much for the cause as anyone else,” he answered in a quiet calming voice. “You protect the students under your care with a ferocity that few others can manage, and you refuse to fold under the might of the Ministry’s regulations. Your advice is not something anyone would shirk and you provide it freely. And you watch over those of us less inclined to watch our tongues when appropriate. Don’t count yourself out of the fight, you do more than you know.”

Shock held her tightly in its grasp for several minutes after Severus’s encouragement. Had the bat of the dungeons just gotten sentimental with her? She, more than anyone, knew that the foreboding man had the capability for positive emotions, but never had she been on the receiving end of such kindness from him. Yes, he’d shown a large amount of respect towards her in the past; however, that respect had never lent itself as close to fondness as his previous words had.

Minerva sat quietly for so long that she could tell Severus had begun to feel awkward. The man had exposed a part of himself she hadn’t seen in the fourteen years she’d known him and now she was screwing it up. Quickly coming back on balance, Minerva tilted her head slightly in acknowledgement of his kind words.

“Thank you, Severus,” she managed to say. “That… that means more than you know.”

The two returned to their drinks in a silence that remained tinged with awkwardness but held more warmth and companionship than she could ever recall feeling before.

*** 

"That evil conniving hag," Minerva huffed as she paced around her office, cursing Umbridge in a new fashion with each turn. "That absolute toad of a woman."

Though the staff room would have been their usual meeting place for such a tirade it had been deemed unsafe. Therefore, they'd been relegated to their respective offices – Minerva’s this time around – to engage in such conversations.

"Minerva," Severus attempted placatingly, "you don't even like Sybil."

"I like her a hell of a lot more than I like that amphibian masquerading as a Defense professor."

The venom with which she spoke stunned him for a moment. Minerva had always been the fairest of the Hogwarts professors. She'd befriended him of all people, and hadn’t that been a study in patience and kindness? The woman rarely spoke ill of her colleagues, Lockhart being the only notable exception, and even then, it hadn't been the level of hatred she exhibited right now.

Recovering quickly he settled for trying to humor the angry professor. "I thought hating the defense professors was my gimmick?"

“You aren’t the only one who can hate another professor Severus,” she snapped in reply.

“Yes, but I am the most practiced at such feats.”

Minerva huffed angrily in reply but otherwise ignored his assertion.

Sighing and leaning back in his seat, Severus steepled his fingers and looked over the furious Head of Gryffindor. He was angry at the Ministry’s actions as well. The foolish Minister had been blinded by his years of comfort and now made their lives miserable as both professors and Order members. Yet, Severus knew that they’d expected such actions since the Dark Lord’s return last year. It made little sense for Minerva to be railing against something they’d known would occur.

“Minerva,” he attempted in a softer voice, “I know you hate the woman as much as any of us, but we knew this would happen. Umbridge has been looking for someone to sacrifice since she received her High Inquisitor position. At least this time it was Sybil and not someone who truly adds to the protection of the students.”

Minerva’s eyes flashed and her nostrils flared as she turned her ire upon him. “That does not make it right Severus. Surely you can see that.”

“I never said it was right,” he answered calmly. “But Sybil has not been kicked out of the castle. She remains under Dumbledore’s protection and the Headmaster has already chosen a new candidate for the lost position. One who will not be lost under the fold of the Ministry. We haven’t lost anything Minerva.”

The woman’s shoulders slumped as anger seemed to roll off her. The resulting defeat that plastered across Minerva’s countenance unsettled Severus as few other things could. “She humiliated Sybil in front of the entire castle. That’s what worries me Severus. Fudge may be acting in such a manner because he’s willfully remaining ignorant, but that toad of a woman…she’s enjoying this. And now she’ll be on the war path.”

Minerva was worried about her other colleagues, that made more sense than useless anger. Tracing his lips with one finger, Severus contemplated their predicament in silence for several long minutes. The older woman had a point. Umbridge had expected to win tonight, and yet she’d lost not only her attempt at kicking someone out of Hogwarts but her confidence and credibility with the students. The old hag thought she was in the right. She enjoyed lording over them with sadistic pleasure.

Minerva had a point. Umbridge would be looking for the next lamb to slaughter.

“She won’t be able to touch those most significant to Hogwarts’s safety,” Severus said carefully. “She’d have to have more to go on than a close relationship with Dumbledore for that to work.”

“Like knowledge that a certain staff member used to be a Death Eater?” said Minerva pointing out her fears without hesitation. “Or perhaps that one of our staff is half giant, something that hag is notoriously against. There are little things should could use for each of us. But she wants someone close to Dumbledore. Umbridge and Fudge need to show him that they are the ones really in control.”

“I was cleared of all charges some time ago and Hagrid can take care of himself,” Severus replied attempting to comfort the woman. “Something small like Sinistra’s love for alcohol or Rolanda’s loose morals aren’t going to be what Umbridge uses to remove someone from staff. It’s not enough for public credibility. Especially considering how long the current staff have been employed.”

“So, you’re not frightened that your past could come back to haunt you?”

“Not in this case. I happen to be in the good graces of Lucius Malfoy who has more sway over Fudge than Umbridge does.”

Something close to relief poured from Minerva at that assertion, but tension stole up her spine just as quickly as it had dissipated. “And Hagrid? You think he has such favor?”

Severus couldn’t comfort her this time. “Like I said, Hagrid can take care of himself. He won’t be taken to Azkaban again, that much is certain.”

“I hope you’re correct Severus.”

Nodding in agreement, Severus found himself inclined to agree with that hope. 

*******

“Potter has gone too far this time,” Severus seethed angrily as he and Minerva sat, stunned in his office. “The boy acts without thinking of potential consequences,” Severus added. “He’s just like his father.”

She’d just relayed the events of Dumbledore’s escape and Severus was equal parts furious and concerned. How could Potter be so spectacularly ignorant?

“I think I rather agree with you on this one Severus,” said Minerva shocking the Potions Master into silence. Noting his reaction, she continued. “I don’t blame him for forming a defense group, that’s practical, but to call themselves Dumbledore’s Army and act foolishly enough to write it down…”

Minerva shook her head unable to continue voicing her opinion. For the first time it seemed as though Minerva agreed with his sentiments about the two Potters. And although he agreed wholeheartedly with the Transfiguration Professor, he found himself impressed with Potter’s blatant cheek.

“Dumbledore’s Army,” he scoffed. “The sheer cheek to name themselves as such. The Ministry’s greatest fear.”

“And Albus went right along with it, of course,” said Minerva. Burying her head in her hands, she shook her head defeatedly. “He was just as shocked as we are.”

“Now he’s left us to deal with Umbridge,” Severus sighed. “How very kind of him.”

“He didn’t have a choice, Severus.”

“And yet he’s the one free of the old hag,” he bemoaned. “Why couldn’t they have called themselves Snape’s Army. Then I’d have a valid reason to leave as well.”

To his delight Minerva’s black mood seemed to dissipate ever so slightly. “If they’d named themselves after you, I’d be the first to die of shock.”

“What are you implying Minerva?”

“I think we can both agree that you don’t exactly inspire insolence or rebellion in your students,” she chuckled.

The two fell into a comfortable silence, each contemplating the new difficulties facing them.

“You realize Albus will expect us to protect the students and staff?” Minerva asked.

“How unfortunate for the staff and students,” Severus quipped. “To be left with only you and me between them and the might of the Ministry.”

Minerva’s eyebrows rose in response. The look she shot him was peculiar and seemed to pierce straight through him in the way Dumbledore’s gaze always did. “I wouldn’t choose anyone else to stand by side in this, Severus.”

Severus merely nodded as he agreed with her for the second time that evening.

***

Rage consumed Severus as he launched a jar of frogspawn at Potter’s head. Luckily for both parties the offending jar connected with the door frame instead of the belligerent boy. How dare Potter look into the pensieve! To see the worst memory in Severus’s life of terrible memories.

Hand shaking and tremors of sheer rage racking his body, he flung himself into his desk chair. Looking over the Headmaster’s tool, Severus watched as the memory continued. He hated that memory. Hated what Potter and Black had done to him that day. What they’d driven him to and all that they’d cost him.

He’d lost Lily that day at the lake and he’d never had the chance to make it up to her. He lost the one person who had thought he mattered. The only person to have ever cared about him.

And now Potter had seen.

The boy hadn’t made it far enough into the memory to watch his father and god father strip the pathetic Slytherin they’d entrapped, but Potter had seen enough. A vindictive part of Severus hoped that now Potter would understand just how loathsome a human being his father had been. But the rest of him was too mortified at the implications of this situation to hold onto that.

What if Potter blabbed to his friends or the rest of the school? Severus had worked so hard to build himself a respectful position at this school. To ensure that no student would ever again call him by the nickname that had plagued his school years. He’d worked to be certain that no student would ever feel they could have control of an area that rightfully belonged to him. Now with a few words all of that could be gone.

Panic replaced anger as his eyes fell to the memory once more. Black’s face filled the pensieve. That awful smirk plastered across his face. Severus hated him. Hated all of them. Not just the Marauders, but everyone who’d stood by and laughed at him that day. Of course no one wanted to help some greasy git of a Slytherin, but to stand by like that and enjoy his suffering…

The memory played on and suddenly it was as if Severus had fallen back in time.

_“Geez Sniv no wonder you're so angry all the time,” Black sneered as he stared unabashedly at the now stripped Severus hanging before them. “I would be too.”_

_A chorus of laughter followed his remark carving lines of shame deeper into Severus than ever before. No clever words or comment came to mind at Black’s taunting. So, with great teenage wit he responded with an eloquent, “bugger off.”_

_It was James Potter’s snort that echoed through the mist of memory this time. “Yeah not likely for you Snivellus.” The other boy paused observing his struggling prey before continuing. For the briefest moment something that Severus would have termed regret in anyone else glinted through Potter’s eyes. But the next moment the boy’s words cut sharper than any knife. “It's a shame really. You'd think nature would've given you some assets to work with.”_

_Suddenly the werewolf sprinted over whether to join in or actually act like a prefect Severus wasn't certain, but he hated the boy for either action._

_“Hagrid is walking up this way,” Lupin gasped._

_Lupins words sobered the crowd as they began shifting slowly away. Though he doubted the Games Keeper was truly on his way over, Potter released the spell and Severus fell to ground in a heap. Snatching his wand up, he turned a hateful glare at the boys who'd so thoroughly humiliated him._

_Wearing identical smirks Potter and Black raised their wands in unison. A litany of curses ran through Severus's mind as he fought with embarrassment and anger. Mortification won out in the end causing him to grab his bag and – for one of the only times in his life – run away as fast as his feet could carry him._

_Pushing past the students milling about the Great Hall, he didn't stop until he made it to the dungeons. Severus locked himself in the first supply closet he came to before collapsing. Overwhelming shame and anger battled for dominance within him as he pulled his knees to his chest and buried his head. Wrapping his arms tightly around himself, Severus did his best to stem the tide of worthlessness that assaulted him as shame once again proved victorious. Try though he might to stop them, tears rolled down his face and an inhuman sob tore from his body._

_First, they'd tried to murder him now this. Their hatred apparently knew no bounds. Generally, he wouldn't care what the blasted marauders thought of him. But today it was all too much. It hadn’t just been them today._

_They’d proved that the whole school hated him._

_That much was obvious. No one had lifted a finger to help him. They'd laughed and taunted him right alongside the Marauders. Well, that wasn't completely true. Lily had tried. Humiliating him further whether that's what she intended or not. Having his best friend – a girl no less – defending him did Severus no favors. He hadn’t been able to reign in his anger at the entire bloody universe in that moment. Then after he'd so unkindly dismissed her, she'd added to the Marauders taunting as well. Which admittedly hurt more than anything the others could have done._

_A gasp escaped the young man._

_Lily._

_Realization slammed into Severus. He'd hurt her. Terribly so. He may have been the one absolutely humiliated in front of everyone, but she wasn't the person to take that out on. He'd called her a mudblood. Dread crept its way in followed by a crashing wave of remorse. She'd responded in kind, but he started it. He'd deserved her ire after doing something so terrible._

_Jumping to his feet, Severus wrenched open the door and set out for Gryffindor tower. Unsure of how long had passed since the incident, he did his best to keep to the lengthening shadows of the castle. Apparently, he’d been in the closest for a decent amount of time, for the sun had set and the moon slowly made its ascent. He made the climb to the seventh floor carefully, hoping to avoid any other soul. Most importantly hoping to avoid a very specific four souls._

_To his annoyance, fear settled in his stomach at the thought of seeing the Marauders again. But if meant he got the chance to apologize to Lily then he could deal with Potter and Black once more. She was worth the risk._

Memories ghosted past him, shifting and reforming as the old scenes reset themselves. He remembered waiting outside the Gryffindor Common Room for hours that night. Enduring the mocking glances and snickering of everyone who passed. He'd listened to the taunts and every lewd comment, refusing to retaliate. He couldn't risk it. Not if he wanted to speak with Lily.

A new memory swirled around him, solidifying until Minerva, some twenty years younger, faced him.

_"And what might you be doing so far from your common room at this hour Mr. Snape," the curt woman asked._

_Severus felt his heart stop. What if she sent him back to his common room? What if he didn't get to speak with Lily tonight?_

_"I'm waiting on some work Professor," he lied with ease. "Lily Evans promised me that she'd let me borrow notes for our Transfiguration OWL exam tomorrow. Sh,she should be right back down."_

_Doubt clear in her expression, McGonagall narrowed her eyes. "It's getting very close to curfew Mr. Snape. You'd do well not to be caught out past it."_

_With that advice the woman had left him. Another hour or two passed - putting him out well past curfew - before another sign of life appeared. Mary McDonald stalked up the stairs looking surly as ever._

_"What are you doing here Snape?" She asked._

_"I need to speak with Lily," he answered desperately. He had little pride left so what did it matter if he begged now._

_Mary's answering look left him with no doubt of how difficult his task would be. "From what I hear she doesn't want anything to do with the likes of you."_

_"McDonald, please. I... I just need to speak with her."_

_"Well I will wouldn’t hedge my bets on her coming back out anytime soon," the girl pointed out in a slightly kinder tone._

_"Then I'll sleep out here. I have to see her."_

_Mary's brow furrowed as she contemplated him. Seconds ticked by agonizingly slow as she calculated the risks of helping the likes of him._

Ripping himself from the memory with a gasp, Severus pulled himself out of the chair. Gripping his desk with white hands, he allowed grief to roll through him. He didn’t need to see Lily again, not like that. Mary McDonald had gotten her out to speak with him, but Lily hadn’t wanted to speak with him.

His, admittedly poor apologies, had fallen on deaf ears.

She hadn't forgiven him they day or any of the days the followed. He'd lost everything in one moment born of humiliation and rage. And Lily had finally seen him for what he truly was. A worthless freak that wasn't worth her time.

Severus had always known that was living on borrowed time with Lily. Someone like her just didn't hang out with someone like him for very long.

In the aftermath he’d tried to reason with himself that it was simply the story of his life. Everyone he cared about would eventually understand that he wasn’t worth their time. His parents had never truly cared, and it had taken him far too long to realize that. And the guys he called friends were little more than people who didn’t constantly make fun of him. But that hadn't made Lily’s rejection hurt any less.

He lost the only person who ever really cared about him and he could never find it in himself to forgive James Potter or Sirius Black for their part in that loss. With Lily gone he’d had nothing left to hold on to. And in her absence, Malfoy's kindness and blatant manipulation had reached him when nothing else could. Pathetic as it seemed, he'd been desperate for the kind words and affection shown to him by Malfoy and the future Death Eaters. Their promise of power ensured that no one could ever hurt him again. It had seemed too good to pass up.

But losing Lily hadn't been worth it. She’d died believing the absolute worst about him. And after what he’d done to her, the part he’d played in her death, Severus knew he deserved that.

He’d been alone ever since. Unable to bring himself to allow anyone else that close. If he didn’t let anyone in, then they couldn’t hurt him when they left. And leave they would.

He’d made two exceptions to that rule over the years since Lily’s death. Albus and Minerva.

As his mentor, Albus had become the father figure he’d always burned for. Their relationship certainly hadn’t started out that way, but Severus had proven himself over the years and Albus had proven that he wouldn’t walk away. The man had stood up for him time and time again. If there was anyone in this world Severus trusted beyond a doubt, it was Albus Dumbledore. 

Minerva remained the only other exception. That stubborn woman had worn down his well-established walls and rules like a battering ram. He still wasn’t certain what they meant to one another, but he felt confident in his belief that she considered him a friend.

Severus operated under the knowledge that losing those two would break him. For there was no doubt in his mind that he would eventually lose them. He didn’t deserve happiness. All that mattered in his life was that he atone for his past sins and that he kept Potter safe. Severus found peace in the knowledge that when he did eventually lose Albus and Minerva, he wouldn’t survive long after.

***

The staff room had become a place of hazard since Umbridge’s reign began. However, now that she held the title of Headmistress it seemed the old hag had far less time to discourage the gossiping professors. Minerva and Severus had stubbornly continued their old habit, refusing to be cowed by the woman. Yet, even Minerva had to admit that their conversations had become more subdued. They spent less time discussing real issues on Friday nights and more time on trivialities.

The other staff members had long since cleared the area. Instead they met in hidden alcoves or dark corners of the castle. When not even your office was safe, things became rather desperate.

Minerva and Severus were a bottle deep by the time Umbridge made her routine appearance this week.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Severus vocalized for them both at the sight of the witch.

“How delightful to see you Dolores,” Minerva lied, covering her friends minor slip.

“I see that the two of you did not take my last warning seriously,” Umbridge intoned as she glanced condescendingly between the bottles on the table and the two slightly inebriated professors. 

“Which warning do you think she’s talking about?” Severus asked as if Umbridge wasn’t standing right in front of them. “Is it the one where she’d sack us if we didn’t tell her where Dumbledore was or the one where she told us the staff room wasn’t an appropriate place to discuss politics?”

It took every ounce of self-restraint for Minerva to keep some semblance of a straight face as she responded. “Perhaps she’s talking about the time she instructed us to keep reading materials not specifically related to our fields in our own rooms. Or do you think she’s talking about when she got on to Rolanda about making lewd comments?”

“I’m speaking,” a red faced Umbridge interjected, “about the conversation we had last week about keeping alcoholic beverages in the staff room.”

“Ah, I see,” Severus responded. “No worries Dolores, we’ve kept the alcohol in our rooms until just now. No problem.”

“There most certainly is a problem Severus,” the Ministry witch snapped. “You two are partaking of an adult substance while caring for several hundred students. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves.”

Pulling on a scolded affect Minerva turned to Severus. “You know she’s right. I feel just terrible about our decisions.”

The glint of mischief in his normally cold eyes told her that he was willing to play along. “I know just the thing to improve this situation.” With a flick of his wand a new bottle of Ogden’s appeared on the table between them along with a third glass. “Dolores, would you care to join us.”

It was too much, Minerva lost her sense of self and let out a barking laugh at the Potions Master’s nerve. 

Umbridge however, was less than amused. “The Minister will be hearing about this little habit I assure you.”

Minerva rolled her eyes. “Since Cornelius,” –Umbridge simpered at Minerva’s use of his first name– “is the one who provided me with this bottle, I doubt he’ll be concerned.”

“I’m certain he did not intend for it to be drank inside the school.”

“I’m certain that Cornelius is aware that Hogwarts is my home and, as such, is the only place I would partake of such a beverage.”

Noting the dangerous note in the Head of Gryffindor’s voice, Severus’s silky tone added to the mix in an attempt to keep Minerva from killing the toad on the spot. “The Minister is certainly aware that, as legal adults with full rights, we partake in libations just as often he does.”

“He does not drink on Ministry grounds!” Umbridge exclaimed in a girlish voice that barely masked her irritation.

With her eyes bugging out as such, Minerva found that the woman’s resemblance to a toad be even more uncanny than normal.

Minerva snorted. “You should know better than to lie to a Professor Dolores. We’re uncannily good at detecting false information. Severus here has a knack for it.”

“Minerva’s right, of course.” Severus agreed taking a long drink from his glass. “Have enough students attempt to steal from your supply closest and you become quite adept at sorting lies from the truth.”

“The staff room is not the place for such debauchery.”

“You know Minerva, I find myself agreeing with our new fearless leader,” Severus interjected. “Perhaps we ought to take our meetings to the Great Hall?”

A malicious delight that fascinated Severus shone from Minerva’s eyes. “You’re on to something Severus. But what if instead we go to the Owlery. That could be a hoot!”

“I hear the Astronomy Tower has a spectacular light show in the evenings.”

“I know, the library! Pence would at least keep it silent for us.”

“Perhaps we could use the Hospital Wing, I doubt Poppy would mind.”

“She’d join us before kicking us out.”

The two professors continued bouncing ideas off one another in quick succession, never giving Umbridge a moment to interrupt. However, when Minerva suggested the Headmaster’s office as an option it seemed as if they’d pushed too far.

“That is enough!” Umbridge screeched in a voice shrill enough to break glass. “There will be a new Educational Decree out tomorrow. If you two find yourself incapable of conducting yourselves responsibly then I’m afraid I’ll have to take action. Now, if you’ll both excuse yourselves from the staff room, I’m afraid its in use for professors actually doing their jobs.”

Despite the hostility with which they were kicked from the room, neither could suppress their laughter as they stood outside the staff room.

“Well, your office or mine Severus?” Minerva asked that same mischievous glint cemented in her eyes.

“I daresay we give the Headmaster’s office a shot,” he chuckled. “If anyone could get it in its us,”

“How about that, you are as clever as you look,” she winked.

The two sauntered away not bothering to hide their bottle or keep their voices down. Though the Headmaster’s office refused to let them enter, they did find a surprisingly comfortable room on the seventh floor. The evening passed in a lighthearted merriment neither had experienced since the war had begun.

*******

The strange room on the seventh floor swiftly became the regular meeting place for those staff members disgruntled by Umbridge’s reign. Which apparently pertained to every professor on payroll – Binns included – with the exception of Argus Filch. While Severus and Minerva had found themselves joined by one or two of their colleagues on Friday nights before, never had attendance been met so frequently. It began with a single addition of Professor Sprout and soon grew to include Madams Hooch and Pomfrey. By the time Filius and Sinistra kept regular visits they’d moved to meeting two or three times a week.

The upcoming O.W.L. exams did nothing to lighten the tension among the professors. Instead it increased the need for a safe place to escape the Ministry hag. With the staffroom no longer safe and the professors in need of a place to gripe about the ridiculous Ministry mandates, Severus and Minerva’s secret after hours hideout had become the most popular place in the castle. To the delight of all it drove the old toad to madness when she was unable to discover where the staff were slipping off to between classes or after the evening meal.

There was only one snag to the updated meeting place. On the one hand, it did the staff good to come together for the explicit purpose of bad-mouthing the new Headmistress and venting their frustrations. Conversely, such incidents forced Severus to be in the company of more than just Minerva on a more and more frequent basis. Though he didn’t necessarily dislike his colleagues, he certainly didn’t cherish the thought of spending an excess amount of time with them. A feeling that remained perfectly mutual.

Minerva – mother hen that she was – had become the beacon of strength within the castle. The other staff members looked to her for leadership and guidance now that Dumbledore had vanished. The Head of Gryffindor had met these new expectations with all the grace and nerve Severus would have expected.

“It’s absolutely ridiculous,” Pomona bemoaned as she leaned back into the sofa lounge, she shared with Filius and Poppy. “That toad of a woman has taken everything from us. We can’t teach as we should be able to and if we so much as breath wrong, she’s liable to sack us.”

“Can you believe,” Sinistra added in a slurred voice that demonstrated just how many bottles of firewhiskey she’d contributed to the emptying of, “that the old bitch asked me if I should really be using centaur knowledge to teach astronomy?”

The room gave her a lock of somber understanding.

Emboldened the astronomy professor continued. “It’s rather apparent that she didn’t pay attention during her school years or even crack open a book afterwards. Of course I need to teach centaur teachings! They literally wrote the fucking book on this shit! Figuratively at least.”

“If I’m forced to suffer through one more of her observations, I might break down and throw her from the window,” Minerva added.

A smattering of applause implied that the others wholeheartedly agreed with such an action.

With a smirk, Severus raised his glass to the Transfiguration teacher. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Here fucking here,” Sinistra agreed. She fixed Severus with a sharp look. “I never thought I’d meet someone who could out bastard you Snape. It appears I was wrong.”

To Minerva’s apparent amusement, a few other staff members seemed to agree with that sentiment. She flashed her own smirk at the now scowling Potions Master.

“I’ll drink to that,” Madam Hooch said with a wink. At the same time, Filius raised his glass.

After taking a long drink from his tumbler, Filius added his own two cents. “I’m still trying to decide if my favorite moment of the year was Potter’s article in the Quibbler or the Weasley twin’s escapades and escape.”

Laughter smattered through the room infecting everyone, even Severus found himself hard pressed to keep the smile off his face.

“Potter’s article was impressive,” Hooch interjected, “but those boys flying out of the middle Great Hall is ingrained on my memory forever.”

“Not to mention that damn swamp,” Sinistra pipped in as she tossed her glass aside in favor of the whole bottle of fire whiskey.

“That was a rather remarkable bit of spell work,” Vector acknowledged from the back of the room.

“No,” Pomona contested as she leaned forward in her seat, joy creasing the lines in her face, “what was impressive were those fireworks. I still see one whizzing past my window every now and then. Those two are going to make a killing selling the bloody things.”

Minerva’s long-suffering smile stretched across her face. “And to think I gave them so many detentions this year for those illicit products they kept trying to sell in the Common Room. It’s almost a disgrace those boys didn’t do better on their O.W.L.s.”

“If either of them had the attention span to do something constructive for more than five minutes at a time then they might have,” Severus added in a quiet voice that carried through the whole room.

“I’d say they were constructive enough,” Hooch argued with a grin. “They get my vote anyway.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Minerva agreed.

As one the disgruntled staff of Hogwarts raised their glasses in memory of the two boys who’d caused such strife to their illustrious Headmistress.

***

"Come now Severus, tradition is tradition," Minerva chuckled from her seat by the large fire place the Room of Requirement had created for the evening.

"For the record I despise you," came his response, muffled behind the slightly ajar bathroom door.

Eyebrows creeping closer to her hairline, Minerva saw fit to remind him of their shared past with this bet. "I've played along perfectly well for the past several years, it's only fair."

With a groan of the greatest regret Severus Snape stepped out of the new staff room bathroom. Garbed in loud robes of scarlet and gold the Head of Slytherin looked properly mortified. Pleasure unlike anything she'd ever known sang through Minerva's soul. It was about bloody time.

“Severus, you really missed out by not being in Gryffindor,” the Head of said house cackled. “Those colors really bring out your sunny disposition.”

"This is a stupid tradition," he grumbled.

"It's hasn't been stupid when Gryffindor lost the Quidditch cup."

"Yes, but you don't need fear to command the respect of the students. This is going to ruin me if it gets out!"

"Come now Severus," she shrugged. "You don't need be so surly and it will be nice for the other staff members, at the very least, to know that you're somewhat human."

"I despise you."

"So, you've said."

To Minerva’s delight and Severus’s horror, the Room of Requirement opened to admit Filius, Rolanda, and Poppy. Laughing at Rolanda’s expression of pure mischievous joy, Minerva decided that all the years of being squashed by Slytherin’s Quidditch team had all been worth it in exchange for this evening. 

*******

The first thing Minerva saw after cracking open her eyes were two glasses and a large bottle of what looked like pumpkin juice. Her chest felt tight and everything ached. Even breathing caused her a small amount of discomfort. Looking around she noticed that she was most certainly not in the Hospital Wing, which could mean only one thing. She’d been taken to St. Mungo’s. Sighing heavily – or as heavily as she could at current – Minerva looked once more to the bottle of pumpkin juice.

Surprise overtook the Head of Gryffindor as she noted her favorite drinking partner sitting in the chair beside her. Severus looked to be dozing off at the moment and she allowed her eyes over the Potions Master. The younger man looked haggard and far older than she knew him to be. Sallow skin pulled tight across his gaunt face highlighting the exhaustion worn into the lines of his face.

She’d known that Severus had been under a good deal of pressure this year, but this was the first time she’d seen physical evidence of that. In sleep he let down the walls and pretenses that usually guarded him. Without those in place to fool the world, Minerva found herself consumed by worry for her old friend.

Suddenly black eyes opened and focused themselves on Minerva’s roving gaze. Scowling at her from between curtains of greasy hair, Severus seemed to wait for her to speak first.

“Not up to your usual standard I'm afraid,” she said acknowledging the bottle and glasses

Severus smirked in return. “That's your first remark?” he asked snidely. “After acting the brave Gryffindor idiot you are and taking four stunners to the chest. Not to mention all the trouble I went through to get you such a gift and the first thing you do is criticize it?”

Minerva couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped. “It does seem terribly rude of me doesn't it? However, if you’ve not noticed, I'm currently in bed ridden and feeble so I get to say what I want without fear of consequence.”

“How many of those pain potions have they given you?” He replied with narrowed eyes.

“Are you going to continue haranguing me or are you going to pour us a drink?”

With the smallest of nods Severus acquiesced. Pouring for both of them he took the smaller glass and handed it over to her.

“I'm afraid I'll need more than just this,” Minerva complained, passing her glass back to him.

“Let's start with that and we'll go from there,” he answered cryptically as he ignored her outstretched hand.

Uncertain as to why he was behaving so oddly, Minerva turned her glass up and drained it quickly. And nearly choked for her efforts.

“Why does this pumpkin juice taste suspiciously like it came from Rosemerta’s top shelf?” She gasped between laughs.

“I did say that I went to a lot of trouble to get it here,” he shrugged.

“I’m glad to know that not even the rules of St. Mungo’s apply to the great Severus Snape.”

That finally got a smile from him. “I’m glad to see that they don’t apply to you either,” he said acknowledging her outstretched hand.

“Oh, bugger off and pour us another glass.”

“Tut, tut. Now is that anyway to speak to the man who’s brought you such a lovely gift?”

“No, but it is the way to speak to the git refusing a poor old lady something to drink.”

“There is nothing poor or old about you, Minerva,” Severus snorted. His expression turned serious in a flash causing Minerva’s quip to die on her tongue. The intensity of his gaze as he looked her over expressed a good deal more than his words ever could. “I… I am glad that you’re okay, Minerva. Hogwarts would have been less without you.”

Minerva nodded uncertain of how to respond to such raw emotion from the Potions Master.

“Besides,” the man continued saving Minerva from her floundering words, “I’d hate to have to murder that Umbridge hag. Though it might bring some amount of joy, I don’t need another mark on my already reprehensible record.”

His sneer broke the moment and eased the tension in the room. “Not to mention the paper work involved in such a feat,” she added helpfully. “I know how much you detest such things.”

Severus’s answering smile was the largest and most honest she’d ever seen from him.

***

Severus could feel the Dark Lord’s fury before he made it through the doors of Malfoy Manor. He’d been exposed to the Ministry because his Death Eaters had failed him, and he’d experienced immense pain during his attempt to posses Potter. And Severus was to blame for at least a portion of the Dark Lord’s failed plans.

He’d had to alert the Order after Potter’s subtle and admittedly impressive message, surely the Dark Lord would understand that. Severus tried to convince himself that he’d find some leniency, but experience crawled to the forefront of his mind reminding him that such things generally didn’t matter. He’d earned the Dark Lord’s fury and now he had to deal with the consequences.

“Severus,” the Dark Lord called as he entered Lucius’s office. “I did wonder when I’d see you this evening.”

Danger danced through every syllable of the man’s words and cold fury lurked with his gaze. Bowing at his master’s feet, Severus attempted to humble himself before the wizard.

“My Lord,” he said carefully choosing his next words, “I came as soon as I was able. The Order has taken a serious blow this evening.” He even managed to add a note of satisfaction into those words. He’d managed to outlive Black and he’d never have to listen to the man’s taunts or insults again. Though a part of him lamented the loss of his favorite outlet for frustration, he couldn’t find it in himself to mourn the man’s death.

Severus could feel those red eyes appraising him, deciding just how angry the Dark Lord was with his servant. “Dumbledore is not the only one to have suffered loses tonight Severus.”

The Potion Master gulped silently but held his place. Showing weakness in this moment would do nothing but get him killed. Still, the force of the Cruciatus curse that hit him took Severus completely by surprise. Writhing in pain in front of his former master, he did all he could to contain his cries of pain.

Experience had also taught him that the Dark Lord didn’t respect those too weak to deal with pain. And Severus had experienced enough of it in his life to consider pain an old friend. The curse lifted after several agonizing minutes leaving the Potions Master gasping for air as he struggled back to his knees. 

“I lost many faithful servants to the Ministry tonight and while they are certainly to be blamed for their failure, I believe that a good portion of their downfall must be placed on your shoulders. You alerted the Order to my plans.”

It hadn’t been a question and therefore Severus did not treat it as such. “I did my Lord,” he confirmed. “Potter back me into a corner and I had little choice in the matter.”

Apparently, his response had not been pleasing to the Voldemort. Five minutes ticked past as Severus succumbed to the Cruiciatus once more. Each of his nerve endings felt as if they were on fire by the time the curse was lifted. Occluding his mind to keep madness at bay could protect his sanity, but it didn’t stop him from feeling every excruciating second of torture. Severus barely managed to pull himself back up before the Voldemort continued his berating.

“Your actions cost me the chance to hear the prophecy, Severus. Surely you can understand both my anger and my renewed suspicion.”

“I serve only you my Lord,” Severus gasped. “Dumbledore would have immediately suspected me if I had ignored Potter’s warning. I had no choice.”

Powerful magic pulsed through the room as Voldemort’s fury unleashed itself on his servant. A darkness the likes of which Severus had never felt before coursed through him, tearing at his body and rending his very soul. Agony followed swiftly as unhinged magic flew around the room, attacking the only other living being.

White flashed before his eyes as he found himself thrashing on the floor once again. Whatever Voldemort had unleashed felt worse than anything he’d experienced thus far. His body felt as if it was being unmade, as if he would split in two. Try though he might, he couldn’t occlude his mind. He couldn’t shield any portion of himself from the torrent of power that assaulted him. Bones cracked and skin tore as madness slowly threatened to encroach his mind. Torture didn’t even begin to describe it and he didn’t even try to keep his screams contained.

And then suddenly, it ended.

Tremors wracked his body as Severus whimpered quietly. Huddled into a feeble mass on the floor, he prayed that it was over or that the Dark Lord would have mercy and kill him now. Anything would be better than what he’d just experienced.

“You’ve disappointed me Severus,” Voldemort said quietly. His voice and demeanor seemingly in perfect control once more. “But considering your timely warning to me, I am inclined to believe you.”

“Please,” Severus rasped hoarsely from his place on the floor, “allow me to prove myself your faithful servant.”

“Very well,” Voldemort nodded.

Complying with the unspoken demand, Severus pulled himself back to his knees and summoned enough courage to look his tormentor in the eyes. Pulling images of his conversation with Potter and masquerading anger at Umbridge as anger towards the boy to the front of his mind, Severus attempted to convince his master of his allegiance.

Several hours later, Severus managed to apparate back to the wrought iron gates of the castle. The Dark Lord had not been gentle with his search of Severus’s mind, leaving the Potions Master with a severe headache on top of his other substantial injuries. At some point during the interrogation a few of his ribs had cracked under strain, causing his breaths to come in short gasps. That added to the long gashes and aches left by Voldemort’s ministrations, left him barely able to hobble up to the great double doors.

To his immense surprise, Dumbledore met him as soon as he set foot into the Entrance Hall.

“Severus,” the older man intoned gently as he moved quickly to the wounded man’s side. “I take it Voldemort has forgiven you.”

“Something like that,” Severus muttered as darkness began encroaching his vision. “I need…” his voice trailed off as Dumbledore slipped an arm around his waist and took as much of Severus’s weight as he could.

“Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey.”

Leaning heavily on the Headmaster, Severus allowed himself to be dragged to the Hospital Wing with little argument. Poppy directed them to her office away from the sleeping students and comatose Umbridge. Under the matrons fussing, Severus began drifting into something close to peace. Hissing when she touched a tender spot and shaking or nodding his head at her questions where the only movements he made without her express direction or instruction.

Dumbledore remained by his side throughout the evening, speaking with Poppy in hushed tones and helping when asked. When the nurse offered him a bed in the infirmary, Severus decided he’d had enough. Thanking her for Poppy care, he shuffled from the Hospital Wing with the Headmaster still at his side.

“Thank you Albus,” he said words slurring, “I can make it to my rooms from here.”

A sad smile pulled at Dumbledore’s mouth. “I know you can my boy. Thank you for all you’ve done for us. I know it isn’t an easy task that I’ve left you with.”

“It’s one I’ve chosen,” Severus replied simply. But it was the truth. He had sins to atone for and this was the only path which might allow him to do so.

“You’re a brave man, Severus and one I’m glad to have by my side.”

Severus snorted. “Don’t say that around Minerva, she’s already had me in Gryffindor robes once this year. And I refuse to repeat the scenario anytime soon.”

That brought an actual chuckle from the tired man. “Minerva gets herself stunned by four aurors while defending a colleague and you garner the ire of Voldemort himself. What am I to do with such troublesome trusted advisors?”

“You could always sack us and allow Umbridge to stay,” Severus quipped.

The usual twinkly returned to Dumbledore’s eyes at that. “I think I’ll keep the two of you, if that’s acceptable.”

“It’s amenable to me.”

Dumbledore placed a gentle hand on his shoulder before turning away. “Sleep well Severus. And know that you have both my gratitude and my admiration for your actions.”

With that, the Headmaster turned away leaving his Potions Master to make his way to his quarters alone.

*******

Though she still felt as if she’d been run over by a herd of hippogriffs, Minerva was happy to be back on her feet and at Hogwarts. She’d missed the castle and its inhabitants during her brief absence. Reluctant though she was to admit it, she’d even missed the constant need to watch over those students prone to destructive tendencies.

Seeing her favorite drinking partner standing just inside the front doors, Minerva hobbled over to him. Severus – as per usual – was berating Potter and attempting to take points from the poor boy. As if the child hadn’t been through enough these past few days.

“…no longer any points left in the Gryffindor hourglass to take away,” Severus sneered. “In that case, Potter, we will simply have to –”

Minerva interjected before the foolish young professor could act on his worst habits. “Add some more?”

“Professor McGonagall,” Severus said striding towards her. Warmth that hadn’t been noticeable in his expression while speaking with Potter spread across his face. “Out of St. Mungo’s, I see!”

The Potions Master seemed rather pleased by that statement.

“Yes, Professor Snape,” she answered, shrugging off her traveling coat and deciding to have the two large Slytherin boys carry her things up to her office. Beckoning them over and thrusting her effects into their arms, Minerva turned her attention back to Severus and the two boys.

“Right then,” said Minerva, looking up at the hour glasses on the wall, “well, I think Potter and his friends ought to have fifty points apiece for alerting the world to the return of You-Know-Who! What say you, Professor Snape?”

“What?” snapped Severus all his previous warmth dissipating in a second. Watching him stutter was certainly worth the effort after all the times he’d provoked her in front of Umbridge this year. “Oh – well – I suppose…”

After awarding points to each of the students who’d braved the Ministry and docking Severus’s points, Minerva dismissed Potter and Malfoy.

“You’ve been waiting all year to do something like that haven’t you?” Severus huffed as he gently offered his arm to her.

Accepting his offer graciously, Minerva shot him a sly wink. “I still haven’t forgiven you for that fire whiskey comment you made to Umbridge earlier this year.”

“So, now we’re even?”

“We’re closer to even.”

“I did sneak you a bottle of whiskey into St. Mungo’s if you’ll recall.”

“Yes, and it got confiscated once my mediwizard discovered how inebriated I was after your visit.”

The twitching of the corners of his mouth let Minerva know that his anger held no real bite. “It’s not my fault you choose to keep such poor company,” he answered evenly.

“You’re right,” Minerva responded. “That blame lies entirely at my feet.”

The two walked on in comfortable silence for a few floors. Though she would never admit it to Severus, Minerva was thankful to have him helping her up the numerous stairs to her office. She would certainly have made it on her own, but it was nice to have someone to lean on that she could trust.

Severus’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Now that you and the Headmaster have returned, I do hope things will return to some semblance of normalcy.”

“Normalcy at Hogwarts?” Minerva snorted. “Who ever heard such a thing.”

“Well at least we no longer have to deal with that Ministry hag.”

Bitterness coated his words, leaving Minerva with the distinct impression none of the staff would be over Umbridge anytime soon. She knew that Severus had gone into the Forbidden Forest that night after alerting the Order. Yet it had been Albus who rescued Dolores Umbridge. Which meant that his search hadn’t been fruitful or that he’d neglected to help her. Neither of which, Minerva felt compelled to berate him for.

“Yes, and good riddance,” she replied simply.

Upon reaching her office, Minerva insisted that he stay for a while. She and Severus had a good deal of catching up to do. The Dark Lord had been revealed to the public, Sirius Black was dead, and the Ministry had fallen in the eyes of the public. Who knew what the next year might bring, but for now, Minerva and Severus had an old habit to indulge in that had been ignored for far too long. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said earlier, these two chapters got out of hand in a hurry. Thank you guys for reading and – if you feel the desire to make my day – please let me know what you think in the comments/reviews. I’m not certain when I’ll have the next chapter up, but I will begin working on it this week. I have to say that as I near the end of this little fic, I get more and more distressed because year seven is going to be soooooooo emotional. But as long as we’re crying together right….? In any event thanks for reading and, as always, I’ll see you guys in the next chapter!


	8. Spies, Betrayals, and the Plot pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are back! For a moment at least. I’m so sorry for the long wait between updates. I do owe you guys an explanation because it is possible that it will still effect me and my writing. I lost my brother a few weeks back and, while we weren’t as close as siblings should be, it’s really gotten to me. He and I did share a love for Harry Potter though. These books were one of the few things that tied all of my siblings together and because of that, it’s been so difficult to come back and write this. Added on to the fact that these next few chapters will without a doubt be the most difficult to write anyway. With all of that being said, I do want to dedicate this story to my brother. He wasn’t always a great person and we certainly didn’t get along all the time, but I think he might have enjoyed the fact that I included him in something that the rest of my family doesn’t know about. 
> 
> If this chapter seems to be missing some important things, that’s because I’ve gotten carried away at multiple points when I actually get down to writing. This one will definitely be split into two parts and possible even three. 
> 
> This chapter ignores the retcon that took place in COG and keeps Minerva at her original birthdate in 1935. Which would put her growing up during the second world war at attending Hogwarts during the late 1940s.  
> Now that that novel of an author’s note is out of the way, here we go!

Severus’s stomach currently resided somewhere far below his feet. And his heart... that long abused organ hadn't worked properly in years anyway. Yet he still felt the slow creeping ache that spread through his chest making everything tight and breathing difficult.  
  
Dumbledore's death was imminent.  
  
And he would be instrumental in bringing the event into action. Fate it seemed head struck truly once more. Though the fickle being had never had much for him, Severus couldn’t help but believe this time it had taken things too far. He couldn’t kill Dumbledore. He simply couldn’t do it.

But he had to. He had to protect Draco’s soul from being torn apart like his own. Had to keep Dumbledore from suffering at the hands of those Death Eaters less merciful than himself. He had to make the Dark Lord believe his undying loyalty. He had to force the Order to hate him. All because he had to atone for the mistakes of his past.

Because if he didn’t the Dark Lord would almost certainly win this never ending war.

Somehow Severus made it back down to his chambers after his conversation with the headmaster. The halls had been little more than a blur as he’d stumbled down to his quarters in the dungeons. Falling heavily into his favorite armchair, the Potions Master put his head in his hands. Thoughts swirled through his mind unable to form anything close to coherent. All he could feel was an overwhelming sense of dread and despair.

He had done everything he could to contain that wretched curse and prolong Dumbledore’s life, but it hadn’t been enough. Nothing he did ever was and yet, Dumbledore expected so much from him. Severus let out a dark laugh devoid of any humor. Fate truly did hate him.

The man the despicable boy he’d once been had run to when his world fell apart and he sought the only home he’d ever known. The man who’d done so much for him would suffer a long and painful death as the curse spread through the Headmaster’s body – unless, of course, Severus managed it first. Severus’s mentor, the person who’d given him a second chance at life, would be gone by this time next year. Most likely by Severus’s own hand. No reconciliation or moral thoughts could help him cope with that.

A part of the tormented professor hoped that something else did the old man in before he could. That fate would find some way to intervene on his behalf for once. He’d still lose Dumbledore, but at least then he wouldn’t be the guilty party. He wouldn’t have to perform the deed.

Submitting himself to the fact that this would likely be the most difficult year of his employment at Hogwarts, Severus slowly pulled himself together. Certain actions would need to be taken within the next few months. He’d have to start distancing himself from Dumbledore and the other staff and Order members. Thankfully, his lifestyle of solitude and bitterness meant he wouldn’t have much trouble in that department.

A few extra snide comments and belittling scowls could take care of that. Most of the staff and Order disliked him already, it wouldn’t take much more to push them to hatred. There was only one chink in his brilliant plan.

Minerva.

***  


“Severus Snape!”

Severus’s blood turned to ice at the sound of that voice accompanied by the slamming of the staff room door. He hadn’t heard his name used in such a tone in more than twenty years. And yet it remained ingrained enough for the sharpness to render him frozen on the spot. Minerva stormed over to his spot by the fire, anger swirling around her like a ferocious cloud.

“The Headmaster just informed me of a rather interesting new addition to the staff,” she spat in a stern voice.

“Yes, I’ve heard that Horace will be rejoining us for the year,” Severus replied with a calm he didn’t feel. “I must say I was as surprised as you at Dumbledore’s choice.”

“You were surprised?” and wasn’t that a trap of a question. “Imagine my shock when Dumbledore informed me of the identity of our new Potions Master.”

Swallowing his fear, Severus directed his attention to the fireplace before answering. “Similar to my own I’m certain.”

“Leaving you with what position, may I ask?”

He’d seen this conversation coming as soon as Dumbledore had explained his plan for this year’s staff. He’d known Minerva wouldn’t take it well. However, foreknowledge wasn’t enough to actually prepare him for the moment. Thankfully, years as a double agent had left him skilled in the area of hiding his emotions. Fear and discomfort chief among those and the Transfiguration professor certainly frightened him at times.

“I’m sure you’ll agree,” he began carefully, “that it’s about time we had a competent Defense professor at this school.”

“Competent yes,” she agreed. “You? Absolutely not. What are you thinking accepting this position?”

Knowing he would get nowhere with logic, Severus settled with a quip. “I was simply trying to save you from the headache of me butting heads with yet another new professor.”

“And resining me to the headache of two new professors next year!”

Turning his full attention back to her, Severus attempted to placate the angry woman. “Minerva-“

He got no further.

“Don’t you Minerva me Severus Snape,” she snapped. Collapsing into her normal chair, Minerva swore loudly enough to finally scare those professors brave enough to have stayed through her initial onslaught from the staffroom. “Dumbledore has finally lost it.”

“He’s done no such thing,” he sighed. But before he could finish his thought, Minerva continued her tirade.

“He’s putting on of our best professors in a position that’s been cursed for decades, I think that count.”

“You think I’m one of the best professors?” Severus couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’ll have to try harder to dissuade you of that notion.”

Minerva rolled her eyes before fixing him with a piercing glare. “You’re competent at least,” she quipped earning a snort from her counterpart. “But this is crazy! You should reconsider Severus. You’re playing with fire here.”

“Because taking such risks is so out of the ordinary for me?”

“This isn’t a risk. It’s a certainty.”

Leaning back in his chair, Severus steepled his fingers under his chin. “It’s a done deal. Albus needs Slughorn here and he needs a new Defense professor.”

“Then let Slughorn teach Defense Against the Dark Arts!” She argued fiercely, causing Severus to raise an eyebrow and Minerva to relent on that point. “Or ask him to stay but not teach. Horace wouldn’t snub such an arrangement.”

“That still leaves us without a Defense professor,” Severus countered.

“Then hire someone else!”

“Look at the bright side,” he attempted. “I can’t do any worse than Umbridge or Lockhart.”

“You aren’t funny Severus and looking at the positive side doesn’t suit you.” Minerva said though some of the fight seemed to have fled her presence. “I’m worried about you.”

Once again Severus couldn’t contain a snort of disbelief. “I’m spying on both the Order and the Dark Lord and you’re worried because I’m teaching a new subject to teenagers?”

She dismissed his attempt at alleviating the danger involved with a swat of her hand. “People have died in this position at worst. At best they’ve left the school forever. I’d prefer if neither of those happened to you.”

“As would I, but I’ve only taken the position for this year. We hope that such actions will offset the curse.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Severus let that question hang between them. He couldn’t answer her this time. In all likelihood his upcoming murder of the Headmaster would be what ousted him from the school by the end of the year. He and Dumbledore hoped that Severus wouldn’t be forced from Hogwarts permanently, but by the end of this year everything at the school would change.

However, he couldn’t say any of this to Minerva. She had a part to play as well and that part had to believe him a traitor. An odd stab of regret lanced through the former Potions Master at that thought. Minerva’s trust and friendship meant more to him than he’d ever realized. Losing it would be tantamount to the grief he already felt for losing Dumbledore.

By the end of the year it wouldn’t matter what he taught. He’d be completely alone once again.

***

The new term began both slowly and suddenly. For several weeks in the summer it felt as if the new term would never arrive. Anxiety and fear hounded Minerva’s every thought. The Ministry had finally taken the threat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named seriously, but they’d done so in typical political fashion. Sending out pamphlets in _The Daily Prophet_ , decrying the study of the Dark Arts, placing Harry Potter back on his former pedestal, and reopening cases concerning those once accused of affiliation with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Early in the week Dumbledore had returned to the castle in rarely seen fury after being called to the Ministry over questions about his staff. Scrimgeour disliked the reinstatement of Slughorn, claiming that some of the man’s connections were dubious at best and down right unstable at worst. However, the cause of Dumbledore’s ire had been Scrimgeour’s questions about Severus. The new Minister apparently recalled the professor’s past with perfect clarity and had expressed concerns with the man’s continued appointment at the school. Dumbledore had, of course, in no uncertain terms let the Minister know exactly how he felt about such suspicions.

Meanwhile, the wizarding world looked upon each other with suspicion and mistrust. The air of discontent had become palpable since Voldemort’s announced return. And things would only get worse from here. Severus and Albus both showed signs of exhaustion far more often than usual. Minerva found herself spending less time with her closest friends than she’d have liked.

Albus seemed to be preparing for something big. He’d spent more time away from the castle this summer than normal. Yet whenever she confronted him about his absences, he would merely smile and tell her he’d been doing research on something big. Then he’d gone and gotten hurt and had become far too tight lipped about everything.

And then somehow those long weeks of fear and anxious waiting were suddenly replaced by the beginning of term. In the comfort of a normal routine, Minerva began to believe that things might finally even out. If nothing else, Hogwarts remained her home and in those who inhabited it remained her family. In those acknowledgements, Minerva found contentment.

The first Friday of term found the Transfiguration professor in her usual spot by the staff room accompanied by her surly drinking partner, a nice glass of scotch, and surprisingly little to gossip about. For once it seemed as if the term had begun without the dreadful amount of drama, she’d become accustomed to. Minerva found that she still retained enough anger at Severus and Albus over the new Defense position to be snarky and downright unpleasant with her long standing Friday evening date.

Severus reclined – borderline slouched – in his armchair as he rode out the storm that was Minerva’s long lived temper. She’d allowed him to suffer her anger and disappointment for weeks, ever since discovering his rash and foolish decision to take the cursed position. Despite the vindictive thrill the professor took from his mild suffering, Minerva decided it was quite likely time to forgive him.

“I’ve heard you almost managed a full week without giving Potter detention,” Minerva observed with a cheeky grin. Well almost time to forgive him.

Severus scoffed without turning his eyes to her. “Mark my words. That boy will be the death of me.”

“You’re far too dramatic for this early in the term,” Minerva replied. “Please save your theatrics and overindulged drama for later in the term.”

“Overindulged drama?” He scoffed. “Me? Please remind me who it was last year that confronted the old toad in front of the entire school when said toad attempted to dislodge a teacher you don’t even like.”

As he spoke, Severus’s eyes never left the dancing flames in front of them. While he seemed to be present for their usual meeting and somewhat pleased by her teasing, something about her friend seemed off. As if he both longed to be here with her and yet couldn’t stand her presence all at once. Perhaps she’d pushed too hard after discovering his and the Headmaster’s bone headed scheme.

Berating herself, Minerva attempted more lighthearted teasing. “Well I can’t let you have the spotlight all the time.”

“Seeing as I detest said spotlight, you’re more than welcome to it.”

“Oh please, you adore the spotlight. You just prefer to be seen making the students tremor in fear and run away in terror. Let’s not pretend that you don’t.”

Melancholy settled it’s hold on the man beside her as he downed yet another full glass of her scotch. “It’s for the best.”

“Severus do lighten up. It’s only the first week of term and at this rate you’ll drink us both out of house and home.”

“I thought that was the point of these little meetings.”

“Only when you’re providing the liquor and I’m doing the drinking.”

That finally weaseled something close to a smile from him. “Yes you do a fine job of mooching the best of my liquor stores.”

“Well after all these years, I think I’ve more than earned the right to steal liquor from you,” Minerva remarked as she drained her own glass. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten you’re baiting with Umbridge last year.”

“I’d be remiss if you had. Though I must say that I’ve yet to forget your decision to drag me onto the dance floor two years ago,” Severus reminded her a slight quirk of his lips dispelling the dark mood for a moment.

Minerva might even have succeeded in drawing her friend from his troubling thoughts – heavens knew she’d had enough experience with such things at this point – but fate chose that moment to interrupt them.

“Severus my boy!” A booming voice called from the staff room entrance.

“Oh bloody hell,” Severus hissed under his breath.

The large and poorly timed Horace Slughorn made his way across the lounge and plopped himself into the armchair beside Minerva. “And Minerva as well. Isn’t this a pleasant sight.”

“Good evening Horace,” Minerva responded kindly, noting that Severus wouldn’t be extending any such welcome.

“Evening yourself,” Horace answered in a voice far too loud for the confined space. “I see you two are indulging in quite the night cap. My favorite way to end a long week.”

“I’m sure it is,” Severus mumbled beside her, quietly enough that the words reached only her ears.

“Care for a glass?” Minerva gestured to the glasses beside her in an attempt to cover the laugh that bubbled in her chest.

“Don’t mind if I do,” said Horace.

Seizing a glass in one large beefy hand, Horace poured himself a liberal amount. Smacking his lips heavily the man turned bright eyes on the two. “That’s quite the year you’ve got there Minerva. Excellent. Just excellent. So what are you two gabbing about?” The over excited Potions Master asked as he downed another glass.

Doing her best to hide a scowl at the man’s quick consumption, Minerva took it upon herself to carry the conversation. Hoping that keeping Horace talking would stop his apparent need to drain her bottle of scotch.

“Just the usual Horace. Gossip around the castle, Severus’s love of frightening the children, new and old students, and their woes. Take your pick.”

“I’ve heard rumor that Severus here is the most terrifying of the staff,” Horace chuckled.

The man in question merely snorted and refocused his attention on the fireplace.

“Well someone has to keep the students on their toes I suppose. Ah to be young again,” Horace continued wistfully. “What I wouldn’t give to be fifteen again.”

“I’d settle for my twenties,” Minerva said. “These old bones don’t move nearly as easily as they once did.”

“And I bet you had fun in your twenties, now didn’t you Minerva,” Horace teased.

Blushing ever so slightly, the Transfiguration professor flashed a smile at her colleague. “A lady never tells. But I did have a good time. Those years after the war were special for the Wizarding world as well as the muggle world. It was liberating to be so young and finally free of the shadow of war.”

“Yes, yes, good times. I remember being a little tyke during the first war. The parties afterwards, well I was a bit young to be attending them, but that never stopped me.” Horace replied with a wink that actually made Minerva snort into her glass. “What about you Severus my boy?” Horace said turning his attention to the most dour member of their trio. “Would you go back and be a young man again? Not that you aren’t still a young man I suppose.”

Severus finally broke his night long vigil of the fireplace for a bare moment as he turned an odd gaze on the new Potions Master. Something Minerva couldn’t quite place rested in his eyes in that moment. “No,” he answered shortly. “I should think not.”

Unaware of the dark mood that shrouded Severus, Horace persevered. “Seriously now, my boy. You’re telling me if you could return to your younger self you wouldn’t do it?”

“Not if I had to live in the present,” said Severus, his voice clipped and turning towards anger. “Teenagers are idiots at best, and I was as dense as they came.”

Horace turned to Minerva shooting her another quick wink as he poured himself a fifth glass. “Oh come now! That’s simply not true. I remember our Severus as a young man, just like it was yesterday.” While Minerva took note of the tension that appeared in her friend’s shoulders, Horace remained oblivious to the dangerous territory he’d waded in to. “Such a studious young man and never met one quite as clever and quick as you, Severus. I’d wager you could’ve passed your NEWTs in Potions by third year. Absolute genius in the subject, I’m sure it’s why Albus was so quick to hire you on.”

“I’m sure,” came the muted response. Severus’s black eyes seemed to be bottomless pools as he glared at Slughorn.

“Had half of Slytherin house vying to be your partner in my class. Though I never saw a smarter pair than you and Lily Evans.” Horace turned his eyes back to a captive Minerva. “Those two could run circles around the entire class.”

Severus’s entire demeanor changed in a moment. Had she not known him so very well, Minerva wouldn’t have perceived the slight alteration in his body language. However, she’d spent many a night dissecting the man’s tells. Minerva could sense the change that overtook him between one heartbeat and the next. All of this over the mention of one name.

“I’d forgotten you and Lily used to be friends,” Minerva pried. She had completely forgotten that odd pairing which had so befuddled the staff for a few years.

“We were,” Severus acknowledged his voice tight.

“But now that you mention it,” she continued as memories she’d long forgotten assaulted her, “I seem to remember catching the two of you drinking stolen firewhiskey in the owlery that one time.”

“Rarely saw one without the other for many years there,” Horace added before Severus could comment. “That is until she found herself with Mr. Potter. Now there was a truly smart match.”

In one swift motion that took both Minerva and Horace by surprise, Severus leapt to his feet. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said before stalking from the room.

His voice had been tight with some emotion that Minerva couldn’t quite place. For some reason her young friend was hurting once again, and she had no clue as to why.

“Well more scotch for the two of us then,” said Horace. For once even he seemed to realize that they’d overstepped some invisible boundary.

As Horace poured them each another glass and silence sank between them, Minerva couldn’t stop her mind from wandering to Severus’s odd mood.

***

The long corridors of the old castle merged together as Severus stalked blindly down them. He strode purposefully down each with no destination in mind. The only goal he cared about was stifling the memories that had assaulted him in the staff room. Having Lily sprung on him so suddenly left him defenseless to his own mind. Misery threatened to drown him even as hopelessness gripped him tighter.

Everyone he loved either turned from him eventually or died. In some cases both events occurred. People either figured out that he wasn’t enough, or they died before they could discover that fact. Dumbledore had been the only notable exception to that rule and the old man would be dead by the end of the year.

The darkness that had ensnared him as a teenager now encased his world.

His memories seemed bound to lead him tonight as he soon found himself in the blessedly empty owlery. When they’d been fourteen, he and Lily had nicked a bottle of firewhiskey out from under Slughorn’s nose. Thinking themselves beyond clever they’d escaped to an alcove hidden in the back of the owlery to enjoy their hard won wares. A small spot of escape that had belonged to just them. It had been a place where they’d could forget everything else and just be Lily and Sev.

As Severus found his way back to their spot the memories he’d been fighting since his flight from the staff room, overtook him.

_“You’re a bloody lightweight,” he laughed as Lily leaned heavily against him._

_“And here I thought you’d be the one who wouldn’t be able to stomach the stuff,” Lily teased as they passed the swiftly emptying bottle between them._

_“Guess it’s in my genetics,” Severus said._

_A somber quiet passed between them as Lily fought her way back to coherency. “You’re nothing like him, Sev,” she whispered._

_“What if I am?”_

_Using every ounce of focus she had left, Lily turned to face her best friend. “Don’t say that Sev. You’re nothing like your father. You’re brave and kind and… well just good. You’d never hurt me… or someone weaker than yourself. Not… not on purpose at least.”_

_Despite her words being slurred by the alcohol that befuddled both of their brains, they meant more to Severus than she could ever understand. So much that he hardly dared to believe them. “Do you really believe that?”_

_“Course I do,” Lily exclaimed as she leaned back into him. “I’m your best friend and therefore the best qualified to examine your deepest emotions and characteristics and besides all that I’ve known you longer than pretty much anyone else so I’m obviously you’re best choice of people to give you the one hundred percent truth at all times…”_

_“That was a very impressive sentence there, Lily,” Severus laughed._

_“Yeah well I am a lightweight,” Lily continued. “Seriously though Sev. I love you and I don’t want you to ever think you’re anything like him. You’re better than that.”_

_Unable to find anything suitable to say in response Severus pulled her into a tight hug. Burying his head in her hair he mumbled a quick “I love you too Lily. Always.”_

Now, alone with nothing but her memory to haunt him, Severus knew that his best friend had been so very wrong about him. He was every bit as cruel and vile as his father had been. Only he’d been worse. Lily’s words that had so bolstered him on that day, taunted him on this evening.

Lily Evans had been so very wrong about him.

***

The staff room seemed far more solemn tonight than on other weekend evenings. Though the majority of professors had gathered in the room earlier to discuss the events surrounding Katie Bell’s accident, most had cleared out as the evening hours grew long. Proving himself as stubborn as rumor predicted, Severus continued his vigil by the fireplace as he awaited Minerva’s return.

As head of the young lady’s house, it had fallen on her shoulders to report to the Bells and to ensure the girl made it St. Mungo’s with the proper care. Having observed both the necklace and the girl, Severus knew the trip to St. Mungo’s would be a lengthy one. He’d done everything in his power to save the poor girl, but her condition would be touch and go for several hours yet.

Rubbing tired eyes with the heels of his hands, Severus sighed heavily. It seemed as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders this evening. He and the Headmaster had already had a lengthy discussion about the implications of this act and who could possibly be responsible. He’d also been forced to send a report of Draco’s failures to his other master. Under pressure the boy had acted foolishly and that wouldn’t bode well.

But they would face that issue when they came to it. For now, Severus contented himself with waiting for Minerva’s arrival. At least she would have information on Katie Bell and a fresh perspective on things that he so desperately needed.

Almost as if his thoughts summoned her, the Head of Gryffindor walked slowly through the staff room door. Haggard though she looked, Minerva dug up a small smile for him.

“How did I know I’d find you waiting here?” she asked as she sunk into the chair beside him.

With a flick of his wand Severus conjured a bottle with two glasses and poured them each a drink.

“Where else would I be at this time of evening?” he replied handing her a full glass.

“Most people would be sleeping,” Minerva smirked. However she accepted the glass happily and drained it quickly enough to remove any of the usual bite that her snark might contain.

“Sleeping? How very dull of them,” Severus quipped. “How is Ms. Bell?”

“As well as could be expected,” said Minerva without looking up at him “She’s stable and damn lucky, but other than that…”

Severus nodded dumbly, wishing there was something more he could do for his obviously distraught friend.

“She’s lucky to have been found instantly,” he agreed. “Had she been left for much longer, there wouldn’t have been a chance to stop or even contain the curse. We should be thankful-” A quiet sob from Minerva stopped him midsentence. “Minerva?”

“She almost died Severus,” said Minerva as she turned wide wet eyes on him. “She almost died while visiting Hogsmeade on weekend close to Christmas. Is this our reality now? We can’t even keep the students safe within the boundaries of the castle on a supervised trip?”

Finding himself at a loss as Minerva turned closer to hysterics, Severus did the only thing he could think of. Moving his armchair closer to hers he placed an awkward hand on her shoulder and tried to bring her some measure of comfort. Before he knew it, his arms were full of a crying transfiguration professor who for some reason thought him capable of providing solace when needed.

“It’s okay, Minerva,” he said softly rubbing a hand across her back.

It had been so long since he’d done anything like this that he had no idea what to do other than mutter empty words and maintain loose physical contact. No one sought comfort from the bat of the dungeons. Not even tearful teenage students were foolish enough to break down in front of the Head of Slytherin house. And no one else would care to come to him for such affection.

Despite the dire situation that forced him into this awkward situation, Severus couldn’t help the rush of emotion that swept over him as well. For the first time in twenty years he had an honest to God friend. Not a friend of convenience or happenstance like Lucius Malfoy, but someone who valued him enough to seek out his comfort. Someone who wanted to share their grief in private with him. Someone like Lily.

Even as warmth spread through his long abused heart, dread threatened to consume him. This wouldn’t last and if he allowed it to continue he would just be prolonging the inevitable. By years end Minerva, along with everyone else, would hate him. It wouldn’t matter that none of it was true or that he was acting on orders.

By the end of the year this friendship, like everything else meaningful in his life, would be little but dust.

***

Minerva had only agreed to attend Slughorn’s little Christmas party in the hopes of swindling another dance from Severus. Heavens knew the young man needed a light moment and she did get so much pleasure out of watching him squirm in the spotlight. Earlier she’d seen her friend sulking around the fringes of the crowd, but he’d since disappeared.

Minerva had gotten caught up in a discussion with a former student and had lost track of the infamous potions master. Hoping against hope that she hadn’t missed her chance, she began scanning the crowd once again. Just as she gave up any optimism of seeing him again, she caught sight of billowing black robes in a back corner. Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Minerva made her way through the throng to her drinking partner.

Schooling her features, she slipped beside him as he poured himself a glass of butterbeer. “Well if it isn’t my favorite dance partner.”

The effect was instantaneous.

“Absolutely not,” he objected.

“Oh don’t be a wet blanket,” Minerva chided. Quietly she applauded herself on keeping her laughter carefully bottled.

Red began tinging the cheeks of the bat of the dungeons. _Really if only everyone else saw this side of him,_ Minerva bemoaned to herself.

“I’m not being a ‘wet blanket,’” he argued vehemently, growing redder as he spoke. “I’m refusing to be humiliated by you once again.”

“Oh come on Severus it’s only one dance.”

“Absolutely not.”

Certain to keep her voice low, Minerva pouted as she delivered what she hoped would be her trump card. “You face You-Know-Who on a regular basis and yet you’re afraid of a simple foxtrot?”

“The Dark Lord doesn’t force me to dance with him,” Severus hissed quietly.

Minerva fixed him with a scowl that she generally reserved for misbehaving first years.

“You can glare at me all you like I’ll not be capitulating this time.”

Three minutes and several loud protests later, Severus once again gave in to her demands, cursing her every step of the way.

*** 

“I hear you had a good time at Slughorn’s party Severus,” Minerva taunted as he joined her in his usual seat by the fireplace.

“By Slughorn’s definition of a good time or your own?” He sneered back obviously not in the mood for such banter.

Instead of reacting to his poor attitude, Minerva simply chuckled. If she’d learned anything about Severus Snape in the past fifteen years it was that you had to take his temper with a grain of salt. Especially here lately. Like Dumbledore, Severus had become far more cagey and closed off in recent months.

“If you’re still angry that I forced you into dancing once again, then your ire is a cross I’m willing to bear.”

To her delight something close to his usual mischief surfaced for the briefest moment. “If I got angry every time you attempted to publicly humiliate me, I’d never have a happy moment.”

“You should inform both yourself, the student body, and the staff that you do in fact have happy moments,” she quipped.

Severus merely snorted, the mischief from a moment ago slipping away as quickly as it had appeared.

“I hope you didn’t give Mr. Malfoy too hard of a time after he crashed the party,” she said in attempt to divert his mood. “Slughorn mentioned that he tried to gate crash the event.”

Instead of bringing Severus out of his mood, her topic seemed to only bury him deeper into the enigma of his mind.

“The boy acted foolishly, I reprimanded him for his actions,” he replied.

His words sounded true enough, but something about his demeanor screamed that he knew more than he was letting on. _Then again,_ Minerva thought to herself, _perhaps I’m just reading too much into it._ _Only one way to find out,_ she reasoned.

“There’s something off about him here lately,” she continued in her best nonchalant tone. “I understand he’s distraught over everything that happened with his father, but still… Something doesn’t seem right there.”

If she’d thought Severus had been difficult to read before, it now became impossible to determine anything that might be going through his mind. Though Minerva prided herself in being able to determine the slight nuances of the difficult man’s personality, she currently found herself at a loss. All of his well fortified walls were in place. This was undoubtedly the face he showed to You-Know-Who and his followers. Not even Order meetings saw such a façade from the former Potions Master.

Severus knew something, but for whatever reason he chose to hide it from her.

“It’s undoubtedly difficult on him as teenager,” Severus replied without missing a single beat. “Imagine being that young and having your father disgraced and then chucked into Azkaban. It’s enough to unsettle anyone let alone a sixteen year old kid.”

“Fair enough,” Minerva conceded, but she refused to stop fishing. “Did Dumbledore tell you about Potter’s suspicions?”

The sneer that marred his face in response felt far more natural and normal. “Yes, the Headmaster informed me of Saint Potter’s concerns.”

“And?” she prodded when he remained silent.

“And what?” asked Severus. “Potter has a well known and long standing vendetta against Mr. Malfoy. Any accusations made by him in this situation are certainly unfounded wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of course,” Minerva responded slowly. She hadn’t missed his evasion of her question and she had a gut feeling that she needed to press this issue further. “However, Potter has never been one to cry wolf.”

Severus’s eyebrows went straight to his hairline at that remark.

“You don’t count Severus,” Minerva snorted despite herself. “You antagonize him enough to warrant a little questioning. But Mr. Malfoy on the other hand has been acting odd. I’m rather worried.”

Again Severus didn’t comment. Instead he turned his attention to the blazing fire.

“You know something don’t you,” Minerva guessed, tired of dancing around the subject.

For several minutes Severus didn’t acknowledge her comment. When she’d reached the point of believing that it was simply a lost cause, he finally turned back to her.

“It’s best for you to stay as far away from this as possible Minerva,” he said, fixing black eyes that held none of their usual familiar warmth on her. “As a friend, I’d advise you to leave this alone.”

With that, Severus excused himself from the staff room leaving Minerva far more confused and worried than when she’d first entered.

***

For the second time this week, Minerva found herself on evening patrol. However, this evening she at least did not find herself alone as she roamed the expanse of the castle. Dumbledore had insisted upon having aurors present at the school during his frequent absences this year. The Headmaster seemed to hope that increased Order presence would add an extra layer of protection to the school.

Not that Minerva could argue such a point. Having someone she trusted to watch her back on nights such as these certainly made her feel more secure.

Yet tonight she had been saddled with patrolling the corridors with Alastor Moody. While she held no dislike for the man, he wouldn’t have been her first choice of partner. The ex-auror was as clever as they came and he knew his stuff, but he was also paranoid. To the extreme.

Alastor had insisted that they check, double check, and triple check every nook and cranny of their route. When Minerva had attempted to persuade him there was little sense in disassembling each suit of armor every time they passed, he’d shouted something about _constant vigilance_ and had rechecked said suit of armor. By midnight the Transfiguration professor had resigned herself to an uneventful night of constant vigilance.

Rolling her eyes as Alastor stuck his wand into a mouse hole, Minerva willed the clock to move a bit faster. Just when she thought the evening couldn’t get any duller, hurried footsteps sounded at the end of the corridor. Alastor came to his feet with the agility of a much younger man and had his wand at the ready before Minerva could even raise hers.

From the depths of the dark hallway emerged Severus with a young Mr. Malfoy at his side. Both wore long dark robes and gave the impression that they were in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Severus,” Minerva greeted cordially.

“Minerva,” he replied, though his eyes remained fixed on Alastor.

“Didn’t realize it was your evening for patrol Snape,” the ex-auror growled in a voice that heavily implied suspicion.

Severus and Malfoy’s eyes narrowed as their expression pulled into identical scowls directed at Alastor.

“It’s not,” said Severus. “However, Mr. Malfoy here has earned himself detention this fine evening and is fortunate enough to be serving it with me.”

Alastor kept his expression neutral. “The boy has detention at this late hour?”

Had she been anyone else, Minerva wouldn’t have noted the tension that lined Severus’s shoulders at Moody’s questions. However, at this point, she’d known the Potions Master long enough to recognize the minute signs of distress that he hid so well from others. Something was wrong.

While Minerva made these observations, Severus didn’t hesitate to answer Moody. “There are certain potion ingredients which grow in the Forbidden Forest and can only be picked in the proper moonlight. Mr. Malfoy is lucky enough to have been assigned detention on the perfect night for harvesting said ingredients. Since it is the weekend, the Headmaster gave me permission to keep him up for this punishment. Apparently, exhaustion tends to keep some students out of trouble.”

Severus turned his gaze upon her as he spoke. Despite his light tone, the dark look he shot at her relayed the apparent importance of his necessary departure. Something wasn’t right with this situation, but she had to trust that Severus knew what he was doing.

“Well don’t let us keep you,” Minerva said, stepping aside to let them pass.

“Thank you, Minerva. Alastor.” With a nod at each of them, Severus and Malfoy stalked away into the night.

Alastor’s gaze followed them until they turned the corner and disappeared from view. Minerva had the distinct impression that his other eye would continue following them throughout the castle.

“Something not right there,” he growled as he turned his attention to Minerva.

“It’s just detention, I’m sure.”

“With that one? Not likely,” Moody snorted.

Minerva wasn’t certain that she liked the suspicious gleam in Moody’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t trust him.”

 _That much is obvious_ , Minerva didn’t say. “Why not.”

“Once a Death Eater always a Death Eater.”

“Dumbledore believes he’s changed.”

“Which is why he has a small amount of grace from me. But it doesn’t mean I have to trust him.”

Minerva weighed her next words carefully. “I’ll admit that Severus has his rough spots, but he’s a good man underneath it all.”

“He’s a turncoat,” Moody insisted as if that explained everything. At Minerva’s blank look, he continued. “Snape turned on those he once claimed as friends, who’s to say he won’t do it again.”

Silence snuck between them as they continued their patrol as a heavy feeling settled in the pit of Minerva’s stomach. She’d come to view Severus as a close friend, someone she could trust without question. And though she refused to believe Alastor’s assertions that Severus was guilty of something, doubt had found the smallest amount of purchase in her mind. Despite every intuition that screamed Severus felt the same pull of friendship that she did, Alastor was right. The man had turned on such friends before.

Such thoughts left a bad taste in her mouth, but the truth behind them couldn’t be denied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me and I hope you guys enjoyed! I don’t know when we will have another update but hopefully it will be soon. Thanks for reading and as always I’ll see you guys in the next chapter!


	9. Spies, Betrayals, and the Plot pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright we’re back again! Thanks for hanging in here with me guys! As much trouble as this book has given me, I’ve written waaaaay too much for it. So expect pt 3 of HBP in the next few days. Let me know what you guys think in the reviews/comments! I’d love to know how you guys feel about all that is going on in these chapters.  
> Important update: I added several pieces to pt 1 of book six. So if you haven’t just read it today, then you are missing extra Sev and Minnie goodness!  
> Thanks as always you guys! See you in the next chapter!!

Draco walked several paces behind the professor as they entered Malfoy Manor. The teen had been invited to a few Death Eater meetings over the summer, but this was the first time he’d been summoned during the school year. His plan with the cursed necklace hadn’t gone well, but he had gone through with that plan expecting little else. It had been a desperate act and one Draco knew he would now be punished for.

He’d brought too much attention to himself. Snape had put two and two together quickly enough and that almost certainly meant that Dumbledore would have as well. The Dark Lord wasn’t happy with him at the moment. They stopped just outside his father’s office.

Snape turned to face him, placing what was probably meant to be a comforting hand on his shoulder. Draco shrugged off the man’s attempt with contempt. “What?”

“Keep your mouth closed unless asked a direct question,” Snape hissed in a voice that brokered no opposition. “Let me handle this. Understood?”

Draco shrugged insolently, refusing to give Snape what he desired. This was his mission, not the professor’s and he’d be damned if he let the man take his glory from him. This was his chance to fix his father’s mistakes, to bring the Malfoy’s back into the Dark Lord’s good graces. He couldn’t allow Snape to ruin that. Though, in all honesty, he would happily allow the Potions Master to field the Dark Lord’s questions.

Following Snape once again, Draco entered his father’s study to see the man himself kneeling close to the Dark Lord’s side. Snape dropped into a kneeling position at the Dark Lord’s feet, prompting Draco to follow suit.

“Rise my friends,” the Dark Lord said, his voice sending shivers down Draco’s spine.

Draco waited until the older man obeyed before rising slowly to his feet. His father moved to his side in an instant, placing him ever so slightly behind the two older men. A quick glance from his father that he knew all too well instructed Draco to stay back and to remain silent.

“Severus,” the Dark Lord continued as he noted the position of his three servants, “and young Mr. Malfoy. Thank you both for joining us.” Though the man’s words sounded pleasant enough, the threat within his tone conveyed the very real danger Draco found himself in.

“We came as soon as we could, my lord. You said the matter was serious.” Snape answered slowly.

“Yes…” the Dark Lord cocked his head as he watched the two older men. His eyes locking onto Snape’s gaze. “Yes, it is an urgent matter that we must discuss. The previous attempt at Dumbledore’s life was sloppy and doomed to fail.” Draco’s veins turned to ice as the Dark Lord looked to him. “I’m disappointed in such a blatantly desperate attempt.”

Before Draco could respond, Snape spoke into the deadly quiet that surrounded them. “Your correct, as always, my lord. The boy, as is the case with most teenagers, did not think this plan through. However, I believe this to be a disastrous misstep, not a complete failure.”

“The staff will have their suspicions,” the Dark Lord pointed out.

“They will and they have,” Snape admitted. “But they believe it to be an adult who is at fault not a mere child.”

Blood that had frozen at the Dark Lord’s gaze now boiled to life in Draco’s veins at the professor’s remark. He was _not_ a child! Thankfully, the Dark Lord continued his discussion with the Potions Master before Draco’s indignation caused him to do something foolish.

“They suspect you?”

Snape paused, deliberating on his answer before providing it. “There is always some manner of suspicion directed at me. I am meant to be their spy, but I also spend time with their enemy. It is to be expected.”

The Dark Lord nodded, clearly appeased by Snape’s answer. “Still, I do believe punishment is in order for the boy’s failures. Something a bit more than trips into the Forbidden Forest at night.” The Dark Lord’s eyes roved Draco and his father, observing the two and looking for any weakness.

Once again, Snape jumped in before either of the Malfoy’s could so much as draw breath to speak. “Might I make a suggestion my Lord?”

 _Bastard_ , Draco thought shooting a glare at his Head of House that he hoped remained hidden from the Dark Lord.

“You may Severus.”

“Punishing the boy will only lead to rebellion,” Snape remarked casually. “You know how teenagers are. Instead might we show him that the consequences of his actions are a bit more… reaching?” Snape shot a significant look at Lucius as he spoke.

Following his servant’s gaze a sadistic smile curled the Dark Lord’s lips. “Clever as always Severus. Such actions have seen success from Lucius’s end, perhaps a similar demonstration will provide motivation to not fail me again.” Red eyes held Draco frozen in place as fear took over once more. Without looking away, the Dark Lord addressed Snape. “Would you like to do the honors?”

“If you wish my Lord,” Snape replied.

“A reward for your cleverness.”

Snape nodded and stepped forward, wand held high and aimed at Lucius’s chest. Draco put two and two together rather quickly but before he could protest, his father’s hand squeezed his arm tightly. He looked up in time to catch his father’s gaze and unless he was mistaken the elder Malfoy shook his head ever so slightly.

A heartbeat later and Lucius had turned his attention back to Snape. Draco didn’t have time to prepare for the curse Snape sent at his father leaving the man in a screaming heap on the floor.

Time seemed to stop as Draco watched his father be tortured by the man they’d both considered family. He wanted to scream and rage at both Snape and the Dark Lord, but neither of those actions would help. Experience had taught him that the Dark Lord wouldn’t allow this to end until he deemed his message had been delivered. No amount of begging or promises could stop him.

Helplessly, Draco watched as his father paid for his mistakes. Tortured because his son had been desperate enough to act foolishly. Hatred filled him as he turned a scowl on the professor he’d so idolized once upon a time.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but couldn’t have been more than five minutes, Snape lowered his wand and turned to the Dark Lord. “I believe that this particular lesson is well received, my Lord.”

“In a hurry are we?” The Dark Lord replied an edge creeping into his voice.

Draco couldn’t find it within himself to care if his master was annoyed with Snape, the bastard certainly deserved the Dark Lord’s ire. As Snape turned his full attention to the Dark Lord, Draco hurried to his father’s side.

“I’m afraid I have news, my Lord,” Snape continued. “Not good news. And it cannot wait any longer.”

If the Dark Lord responded, Draco didn’t hear him. Focusing his attention on his father, Draco tuned out the other two as he tried to determine the man’s health. His father’s body shook with tremors, but Lucius’s eyes were clearer than they ought to have been after being subjected the Cruciatus Curse for so long. The older man rolled himself to his side without the help of his son and, with more ease than should have been possible, he concentrated his attention on the exchange between Snape and the Dark Lord.

“There were Aurors patrolling the school this evening, Moody was among them,” Snape’s voice seemed to shake ever so slightly as he spoke. “We ran into him while answering the summons.”

The Dark Lord’s eyes narrowed. “And?”

“He let us go by, but I’m certain he didn’t believe my story. The boy will be under heavier observation when we return. It will be unwise to bring him to another such meeting.”

“So you were careless and now Moody, and by extension Dumbledore, suspect that the boy’s up to something?” Voldemort hissed.

Snape bowed his head in a show of submission and nodded slightly.

The Dark Lord’s Cruciatus Curse took Draco by surprise as it hit the Potions Master full in the chest. As the professor writhed on the floor, Draco couldn’t suppress the vindictive feeling of justice that rose in his chest. It was no less than the git who’d tortured his father deserved.

Turning his attention back to his father, Draco helped the man into a sitting position. “Father,” Draco whispered, but he got no further.

“Be silent,” his father hissed, the elder Malfoy’s attention fixated on Snape as the man endured the Dark Lord’s fury.

The Dark Lord ended the curse with a flick of his wrist, gazing at his servant with disappointment etched in every feature. “You frustrate me to no end Severus,” the Dark Lord sighed, his high cold voice resonating his displeasure through the room.

A shiver stole down Draco’s spine as he watched the professor struggle to his knees.

“In one moment you’re brilliant and in the next beyond foolish,” the Dark Lord continued a curious look on his face as he gazed at his servant. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe you to be protecting the boy.”

Unwittingly, Draco snorted at the notion. Regret at his breech of decorum coursed through him when those red eyes found his once again. His father’s hand wrapped tightly around his wrist at the same time the black eyes of his professor flashed a warning to him.

“Something you find humorous young Mr. Malfoy?” The Dark Lord asked silkily.

Draco’s throat went instantly dry and he found that no words would escape.

“Don’t be shy now, my boy,” the Dark Lord coaxed. “If there’s something on your mind, do share with the rest of us.”

“It’s nothing my Lord,” his father intervened his words shaking as they spilled from his mouth. “Teenagers and their insolence, I’m certain.”

“We’ve just had a lesson on insolence and failure. Perhaps we need another one?”

“No!” Draco protested forcefully. Realizing his mistake he hastily attempted to fix his moment of disrespect. “No my Lord, not insolence at all.” Taking a deep breath, Draco forced himself to look up at the Dark Lord, projecting a confidence he didn’t feel. “Snape doesn’t care about me, only the glory he can achieve for himself at my expense… I found your remark humorous, that, that’s all.”

Silence pervaded the room for several minutes, stealing the air from the room and leaving three of the four present on edge.

Finally the Dark Lord chuckled. “He’s clever Lucius. Remove him from my presence,” the man commanded. The Dark Lord’s demeanor swung quickly back to anger as he ordered them from his presence. His voice a hiss filled with dangerous impatience. “Severus and I have a few things left to discuss.”

Relief flooded Draco’s senses at the dismissal to the point that he barely noticed his father pulling him to his feet and dragging him from the room.

“You daft boy,” the man hissed as soon as the office door closed behind them. However, the bone crushing hug he was pulled into caused his father’s words to lose any of their bite. “You’ve no idea how lucky you are.”

Holding tightly to his father, Draco allowed himself a moment of weakness. At least for a short while longer he could feel safe. “I think I might have an idea,” Draco replied sheepishly. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine Draco,” his father muttered into the top of his head.

Too soon the two withdrew from one another and leaned against the wall opposite the office. Dark magic seemed to seep through the cracks of the door leaving both with a profound sense of foreboding. Screams of pain that weren’t blocked by the closed door leaked out as well. Had he been any less furious at the man currently experiencing the Dark Lord’s wrath, Draco might have felt sorry for him. However, he couldn’t quite muster such feelings for Snape at present.

“We are fortunate it was Severus who brought you,” Lucius remarked quietly as Snape’s voice tapered off.

“Yes because his idea to torture you really helped us.”

His father’s hand gripped his shoulder, forcing the boy to look up at the man. “It could have been far worse, and it could have been you,” explained Lucius. “Be thankful that he was here.”

Though his father’s words held some truth, Draco couldn’t bring himself to be thankful for Snape’s presence. The professor wanted nothing more than to usurp the Malfoy’s, that much had been obvious since the fiasco at the Ministry. His excuses about making an Unbreakable Vow had been laughably false. The man might be the closest thing to an uncle Draco had ever had, but Snape cared about only himself. He’d proven that time and again.

And Draco couldn’t forgive the man for hurting his father. Nothing the Dark Lord did to the former Potions Master would be enough to atone for that.

The two slipped into silence as they waited for the Dark Lord to finish with the professor. Time marched slowly forward leaving Draco’s mind with far too much freedom. His plans for killing the Headmaster had thus far been unsuccessful. Tonight he’d been given a taste of what further failure would mean. He couldn’t risk his family again. Couldn’t risk their lives over his foolishness. His next move would need to be well considered. He had to be confident in his plan to sneak the Death Eater’s into the castle.

Glancing at his watch, Draco was surprised to notice that they’d been waiting outside for nearly an hour before the Dark Lord finally left the office. A wave of lingering dark magic crashed around them as he walked away.

The Dark Lord’s quick glance over his shoulder provided Draco with a final view of the monster he’d agreed to serve. “I’m afraid the professor will need some assistance getting back to the castle.” With that the Dark Lord turned away, disaperating a moment later.

***

Cracking open his eyes took far more energy than Severus thought should be necessary. Though, considering the dull ache in his right side and sharp throbbing in his head, perhaps it took less energy than it should have. Feeling as if he’d been on the receiving end of a Chimera attack, Severus shifted in his bed before attempting to open his eyes once more.

When he finally managed to open them, the first thing he saw was the worried and slightly angry face of Minerva McGonagall hovering above him. From the several hairs that had fallen from her usual tight bun and the worry lines worn into her face, he could only assume that she’d been sitting in the uncomfortable looking armchair for a while.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” he quipped as he recognized the scratchy nightgowns and uncomfortable mattresses that could only mean he’d landed himself in the Hospital Wing.

Minerva’s eyes narrowed but warmth colored her tone when she spoke. “Yes, drinks in the various infirmaries of the wizarding world wasn’t on my bucket list either.” 

“I see you’re copying my ideas once again,” Severus observed nodding towards the full bottle of elf wine on the bedside table.

“Yes,” she smirked, “but I doubt you get in as much trouble for having it as I did.”

“Poppy would sooner join us than berate us, so we’re probably safe.”

“Plus I have dirt on her so she doesn’t have a choice.” Minerva’s expression turned serious faster than a heart attack. “Do you expect me to believe Mr. Malfoy’s tale of being attacked in the Forbidden Forest? Do you have any idea just how fortunate you are that I happened to have walked Alastor to the gates? Did you think about what might have happened otherwise? It’s Christmas break, there’s so few of us here during holidays! What happened, you foolish boy?”

Severus’s mind swirled as she rapidly hurled question after question at him. “Do you expect me to answer all of those at once or might we slow them down to one at a time?” he quipped hoping to defuse her obvious anger and... worry. She’d been worried about him?

“One at a time will suffice,” Minerva replied still serious.

Severus tried to shift himself into a sitting position before tackling her questions, but as soon as he moved pain split through his side. Surprise caused him to hiss as he quickly stilled himself. Minerva was at his side in an instant.

“What’s wrong? Are you in pain? Shall I call Poppy?” She asked, firing off raid questions once again.

He tried laughing at her but received only pain at his efforts. “I’m fine. But I thought we'd agreed to one question at a time,” he wheezed. Regardless of how uncomfortable he currently felt, he didn’t want Poppy back over to knock him out again. He needed to be lucid to gain information. Minerva patiently waited for him to gain control of his breathing. “I’m fine Minerva. How long have I been out?”

“It’s been three days Severus,” Minerva’s brows drew together in frustration. Though whether that frustration was directed at him or the situation, Severus couldn’t tell.

Three days! He’d been out for three days. Shock hit him first followed swiftly by panic. “Draco-”

“Is fine,” Minerva assured him. “He’s the one who found me, half carrying you up the path to the castle.”

“What happened?”

“I’d very much like to know the answer to that,” she said in a voice that brokered no argument.

“It’s all very fuzzy,” he lied seamlessly. “One minute I was with Draco in the Forest and the next here I am.”

Minerva’s eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. Could she tell he was lying? Not even the Dark Lord could tell.

“Is that the story you’re sticking to?” she asked carefully.

Severus nodded. “It’s what I remember.”

For some inexplicable reason, guilt coursed through him as he lied to the Head of Gryffindor. He hadn’t experienced guilt over lying since… well since Lily.

“The way Mr. Malfoy tells it, the two of you were attacked by some large creature. He didn’t get a good look at it, but the extent of your injuries would imply we need to check and see what Hagrid might be keeping in the forest these days.” Minerva’s voice remained clipped as she spoke, but her eyes and body language painted a different picture. Relief flooded her eyes and the way she leaned back heavily in chair said she’d been tensed for far too long.

She’d been worried about him. Minerva had been beside him when he’d woken and based on her rumpled clothing and frumpy bun, she’d been beside him for a while now. Being cared for wasn’t something Severus had ever been accustomed to. It was a rather pleasant notion.

“I’d wager Hagrid is keeping a great many things secret in that forest,” he surmised.

Minerva was having none of his deflecting. “You’re actively avoiding the question Severus.”

“Was I that obvious?”

“You still are.”

Silence stretched between them, thick and tense in a manner Severus had become unaccustomed to while in Minerva’s presence.

“Severus,” Minerva broke first, “don’t leave me in the dark.” Though her face and tone had both softened, an edge remained evident in her demeanor. 

Guilt weighed heavily in his stomach as he looked away from her, unable to lie to her while holding her gaze. Long experience taught him that such an action all but destroyed his credibility, but Severus couldn’t help it. He couldn’t be honest with Minerva without putting her in and everyone else in danger, but he also couldn’t lie straight to the face of his only real friend.

“I honestly can’t remember much of what happened, Minerva,” he answered, grateful that his voice held steady.

Quiet followed his explanation. Still unable to meet her eyes, Severus contented himself with watching his hands as he fiddled with the sheets. As the oppressive and unfamiliar silence grew, he found he couldn’t take it. The quickest of glances in Minerva’s direction was enough to ascertain that anger had replaced the worry she’d felt earlier.

“That’s how it’s going to be then?” she scolded.

He’d lose her friendship at the end of the year anyway. Knowing it would happen and that she’d need to hate him, didn’t make his task any easier.

Severus half shrugged, ignoring the pain that blossomed in his side at the motion. “I don’t know what else to say Minerva.”

“Neither do I,” she snapped. “I do believe that Poppy wanted to know when you finally woke up. Something about wanting to berate you about not coming to her for some things sooner.”

“She’s a mother hen,” Severus quipped, attempting to alleviate the situation.

“Nevertheless, do try to at least listen to her,” Minerva huffed. “Though you don’t seem to realize it, some of us actually care about you Severus.”

With those final words of wisdom Minerva took her leave. In her wake, Severus allowed himself a small moment of mourning over the latest hurtle in their friendship.

***

Minerva strode quickly towards the entrance hall. With Dumbledore away for the evening, several Aurors and Order members had been allowed entrance to the castle in order to help protect the school if the worst should happen. While Minerva disliked the idea of the Headmaster’s frequent absences, she couldn’t deny that he left them with more protection than strictly necessary.

Her last patrol with Moody had racked her nerves so thoroughly that she sent up several silent prayers for anyone else to accompany her this evening. Making her way into the entrance hall, Minerva thanked God for small favors. Nymphadora Tonks stood beside the large doors leading into the Great Hall. Her gaze drifting across the enchanted ceiling with an air of boredom. Next to her, his arms crossed and looking distinctly sullen, stood Severus.

Young Ms. Tonls had been sulking all summer long meaning that Severus had done his absolute best to avoid her. The drama of it all made her colleague sick. To the point that he’d stooped to gossiping about her several times already. He’d sworn against patrolling with her anymore.

However, considering that he’d sworn against patrolling with just about everyone – and vice versa – it seemed as if he no longer had much choice in the matter.

“Ms. Tonks,” Minerva nodded in greeting. “Severus.”

“Wotcher professor,” Tonks said with obviously false cheer. “Everything going alright?”

“As well as can be expected,” Minerva responded. “And with you?”

“Never better!”

Nothing about Tonks’s body language or voice supported that proclamation. Tonight her hair sat in a messy brown bun that looked about as ordinary as tomato soup. No, the young woman wasn’t alright at all.

“While the pleasantry is lovely,” Severus interjected, “we do have a job this evening.”

Turning on his heel, Severus led the way up the marble staircase. Leaving the two women behind him to roll their eyes in unison.

“You’re cheerful as ever Severus,” Minerva observed as she caught up to him.

“I’m ready for this to be over with,” he said in clipped tones.

Taking on an affronted affect, Minerva shot a wink at Tonks. “And here I thought you’d be beyond excited to spend the evening with two wonderful ladies.”

To her absolute delight, Severus blushed and refused to meet her eyes.

“Any other lad would be beside himself,” she continued, enjoying the way her words made him squirm.

Tonks even let out a light chuckle at the professor’s obviously growing discomfort.

“I don’t see how patrolling the corridors of a castle full of children in the dead of night could be fun for any ‘young lad’ as you term them,” he rebutted. His voice deep and calm but tinged with an edge of panic Minerva knew only she could properly pick up.

“Well if said young man is in the company of two fine women,” Minerva continued, “then I’m sure he could find some excitement in even such a mundane task. Surely I don’t have to spell it out for you Severus.”

“Minerva!” he all but squeaked in return.

Whatever chiding he responded with was lost under Minerva’s laughter and Tonks’s quiet chuckling. For a moment it seemed as if this evening would be good for all three of them.

Wiping a tear from her eye, she finally took pity on Severus. “I’m sorry Severus, I’ll stop. But after everything you’ve put me through these past few weeks, you have to agree you deserved that.”

Something passed quickly through his expression before his usual iron clad control slammed back into place. Something that looked suspiciously like guilt.

“If I agree to that then it will be tantamount to giving you permission to continue tormenting me.”

“I don’t need permission to torment you Severus.”

“That you don’t.”

A comfortable peace drifted among them as they searched the first several floors. Looking for any weak spots or anything even slightly suspicious. It was a tedious and long process, but at least this time she had good company. As the evening progressed Tonks fell further and further into herself.

Severus claimed that she was allowing her romantic life to interfere with her work and while Minerva tended to disagree with that sentiment, she had to admit that the young woman seemed overly distracted.

Unable to contain herself and certain that it would aggravate Severus, Minerva waded into the trouble of yet another friend. “So how are things between you and Remus.”

Tonks startled at the blunt question. Wide eyes found Minerva’s at the same time that Severus let out a bone weary sigh.

“I don’t know what-”

“Ms. Tonks, let’s not pretend shall we.”

Tonks seemed to deflate before her very eyes. “It’s awkward as hell. Pardon and all that. But it’s really… well weird.”

Minerva nodded her understanding. “So you’ve talked to him then?”

“I’ve tried but… Ever since I told him I wanted to give it a shot, Remus has been avoiding me,” Tonks admitted. Rubbing a hand across the back of her neck, she turned watery eyes on Minerva. “It’s like as soon as he realized I was serious he couldn’t handle it anymore.”

To Minerva’s great displeasure and horror, Severus snorted at that.

Anger glinted in Tonks’s eyes as she narrowed them at Severus. “Something funny Snape?”

Never one to back down from a challenge – even when he really should – Severus turned his attention on Tonks. “You’re concerned because Lupin is running from his problems? Sounds rather typical to me.”

“You have no idea what-” Tonks began hotly.

“Actually, I think I have a rather unique perspective on this. I’ve know Lupin for about as long as you’ve been alive. I think that lends me some credibility don’t you?”

“No,” Tonks argued forcefully.

“Well now that we agree on that point-“

"Severus," Minerva warned, praying that she could stop him from making an ass of himself just this once.

But he continued as if he'd never even heard her. “-You're too good for the werewolf.”

Minerva felt a cold pit form in her stomach. This wasn't going to end well at all.

Tonks went from meek and mild to angry and dangerous in the blink of an eye. “He’s worth more than you’ll ever be Snape,” she seethed.

Snape snorted derisively and Minerva ran a hand across her face. Well they were in the thick of it now.

“He’s ten times more a wizard than you’ll ever be, you git,” growled an angrier by the second Tonks.

“Is that because he’s eaten that many wizards or are you speaking metaphorically?” Severus sneered in response.

“Severus!” Minerva attempted to chide but found herself ignored once again.

Whirling around on the outspoken professor, Tonks stood toe to toe with Severus. The two made quite the odd pairing there in the corridors of Hogwarts so very late in the evening. Severus’s tall, thin form seemed hulking due to the billowing black robes he wore. His lank hair framed a twisted face and cold eyes painting a textbook picture of a domineering sneer. In direct contrast Tonks’s petite form and mousey attire did nothing to hide the firey temper that Minerva remembered from her school years. Nymphadora Tonks had been as mild mannered as they came as a student. Troublesome of course, but in the manner that the Weasley twins had been problem children. However, when she allowed her temper free reign – as it seemed she was about to do in this moment – it was a sight to behold.

“You’re a right bastard,” declared Tonks.

If her words affected Severus, he did an astounding job of hiding it. “So I’ve been reliably informed. It’s desperately obvious that you’re pining for Lupin like some love sick teenager and, while I normally don’t care, it’s becoming an issue. You’ve been sulking for the past several months and it’s about time to pull yourself out of your little pity party Nymphadora.”

Minerva’s heart stopped at the blunt appraisal of the situation. Severus had certainly cut to the quick of the problem, but he’d done so with the grace of mermaid on dry land. Despite his ability to turn subtly into an art form, it seemed Severus had had enough of this particular issue.

“Don't call me that,” Tonks spat. Her cheeks began flushing with anger directed solely at the Head of Slytherin. “I'm not pining like a love sick teenager. And I don't think I'll be taking love advice from you.”

“Take it from whomever you like,” Severus countered. “But please utilize it. Either deal with your issues and talk to him or let him go. One way or the other you're going to have to handle this issue.”

“You're a wealth of useful advice Snape, thank you,” Tonks fired back. “I have talked to him. He's being stupid about the whole thing. Thinks he's too dangerous and old and all that crap.”

Oh how Minerva wished she could find a well concealed and properly timed secret door somewhere close by!

“He's a fool then,” Severus admonished.

Finally she could not in good conscious allow this to go any further. “Severus, that’s not a kind thing to say,” Minerva admonished.

“Good because I’d hate for someone to hear and misinterpret my opinions.”

“Remus has a lot on his plate right now,” Minerva argued.

Severus would have none of that argument. “And the rest of us don’t? He has an opportunity for real happiness and he's ignoring it because he's afraid. We're living in dangerous times where happiness is rarely found. If I had the chance he does, I'd run to it and never let it go.”

Both women paused unable to fully comprehend what Severus had just said or that the words had indeed come from his mouth.

Tonks recovered first. “If only the world could see him like we do! None of this would even be a problem, but he's been told he's a monster for so long that he truly believes it. It's not him that's the problem its the whole bloody country!”

Words poured from the young woman as if she’d been holding on to them for far too long. Bottling them up until they had little other choice than to burst from her uncontrollably.

Yet again Minerva was beaten to a suitable response.

“Yes, well unfortunately you alone aren't going to change the infrastructure of the Ministry nor the long standing prejudices of the wizarding world. You'll have to settle for yourself,” Severus explained slowly as if to a small child.

Ignoring the condecision in his tone, Tonks turned her eyes on Minerva. “I don't have a problem with his condition!”

“Then make sure he knows it,” Severus prompted. “And then make sure everyone you come in contact with does as well.”

“How does that help?”

Even Minerva found herself leaning a bit closer to the sullen professor to hear his answer to such a claim.

Severus sighed. “It shows him you care and in your own way you can change the minds of a few. Sometimes we can't act in grand manners that we wish. Sometimes we have to settle with small actions.”

“How do I get him to see that?”

“Your problem not mine.”

 _Well that wasn’t helpful in the slightest_ , Minerva thought rolling her eyes at the younger man.

“Then why interject yourself in the first place?” Tonks asked.

This time it was Severus’s turn to roll his eyes. “Because it's effecting your work and annoying the hell out of me.”

Silence paraded around them as each stood, contemplating the varying streams of their own thoughts. The rest of their patrol passed uneventfully and quietly, with barely a word spoken amongst them.

As they bid Ms. Tonks farewell, Minerva couldn’t contain the smirk that quirked it’s way into her features. “It's almost like you really care,” she said leaning in towards the former potions master.

Severus’s shoulders tensed at her teasing. “I really don't,” he argued.

“Say whatever you like, but I know you have a heart buried deep beneath that thick skin of yours.”

“She needed to hear that from someone,” Severus pointed out. “And she already hates me.”

“Softie,” Minerva mumered as she bade him good night.

She was still angry at him for not trusting her when he should be able to, for not confiding in her things she felt she desperately needed to know, and for outright lying to her in the hospital wing a few weeks prior. However as she walked back to her office that evening, Minerva couldn’t help the glow of warmth and pride she felt at just how far Severus had come.

From the battered boy she’d known, to the good man she now had the pleasure of calling friend.

***  
  
So far this year had easily been one of the most stressful that Severus could remember. Between student’s being attacked or poisoned, the Dark Lord’s continued ire, the looming knowledge of Dumbledore’s demise, and the increased patrols with various Aurors and Order members, life had become a bit hectic. As he spent most nights stalking around the castle he hardly minded the increased patrol routes the Headmaster had insisted upon.

In fact he found that he rather agreed with Dumbledore on that point. However, the patrols were conducted in pairs these days. Which meant he almost always got stuck with one insufferable Order member or another. If he hadn’t known any better, he might even believe that Dumbledore created some pairs simply to mess with him.

Earlier in the day he’d been delighted to discover he’d be patrolling with Minerva tonight. After Weasley and Potter had once again found themselves in trouble, his chances of actually patrolling with her had slimed to zero. Which left him with a conundrum. Who would he be forced to walk the corridors with tonight? Sighing to himself as he hurried up the stairs to the Great Hall he just hoped he wouldn’t be stuck with Moody. He could handle anyone but him.

As it would happen it seemed that fate had a way of laughing at him even when he didn’t think it possible. Alastor Moody didn’t wait for him in the entrance hall. Instead he found Remus Lupin leaning against the wall looking – if possible – more haggard than ever. Rolling his eyes and praying for patience he knew he didn’t possess, Severus walked over to the werewolf.

“Severus,” Lupin acknowledge upon seeing him. A tired smile that might have been welcoming coming from anyone else graced the man’s features.

Ignoring all pretense of pleasantries Severus stalked up the grand staircase delivering a swift nod and greeting. Hurrying to catch up, Lupin strode up the stairs behind him.

The first several minutes were spent in quiet contemplation leading Severus to hope they might actually have a silent evening. His hopes were disappointed by the fifth minute of their patrol.

“How’s Ron?” Lupin asked as they made their way down the first floor corridor.

“Very fortunate,” Severus replied shortly.

“So, I’ve heard. Damn lucky that Harry thought of a bezoar.”

“Yes, Potter is surprisingly adapt at such feats of luck.”

Severus opened another door down the long corridor and stuck his wand in. A quick revealing spell displayed nothing out of the ordinary and they carried on.

To his annoyance, Lupin picked up the conversation once again.

“I hear there was a bit of teenage drama in the hospital wing as well,” he prompted with a sly look at Severus.

“I’ve no idea what you’re referring to Lupin,” sighed Severus.

“You’ll have to go to Minerva for the full story, but apparently Ron’s girlfriend is no longer his girlfriend,” Lupin informed as if Severus had any interest in the love lives of his students.

“Thank heavens because even I was growing nauseous over that ridiculous display.”

“I didn’t realize you cared,” Lupin laughed.

“I don’t. But Ms. Brown isn’t the same as those she surrounds herself with.”

Lupin’s eyes widened at that. “She’s a problem in class?”

“Not at all,” Severus answered never breaking stride as he checked room after room and continued the insipid conversation despite himself. “She’s just not at all like her friends. One of those possessive types.”

“Hopefully she grows out of it.”

“Yes, one can hope. Any of her other friends wouldn’t have exhibited such issues, I’m certain.”

“So, Ron can’t tell which ones to stay away from,” Lupin replied, his voice tired but somewhat proud as well. “Guess I’ll have to talk to him about that.”

“Yes,” Severus agreed finally realizing what he’d been talking about for the last several minutes. Idle gossip that he usually reserved for Minerva. Gossip such as when Mr. Potter would finally notice the youngest Weasley. But he’d never really participate in such idle conversation with anyone else. Maybe he was finally losing it. 

“No one ever notices a stale cracker in a good soup," Lupin sighed wisely, breaking the silence yet again.  
  
"What does that even mean?" Severus snapped.  
  
The other man chuckled sadly, his eyes focusing on something far away, before explaining. "It's something Sirius used to say."  
  
"Which is why it reeks of idiocy."  
  
To his surprise, Lupin’s grin only grew at the insult. "You're not wrong. But Sirius did have his moments of wisdom. His reasoning was that you never throw out stale crackers because you can use those in soup. You'd never notice they were stale if the soup was good enough. Apparently, he applied that concept to people as well. Said you might never notice a bad seed if that person surrounded themselves with good people."  
  
“And how exactly is that relative?” Severus felt led to ask.

“Ms. Brown and her friends. You’d never notice how she was if you only paid attention to her in her friend group. Sirius coined it for people like that.”

Severus made the connection at once. "Like Pettigrew."  
  
Here Lupin grew uncomfortable. _Perhaps I made the wrong connection_ , he thought. _But then why would…_  
  
Suddenly it dawned on him. "Or me," Severus guessed accurately.

“Well it was a favorite saying when we were teenagers,” Lupin admitted with an awkward shrug.

“Yes, because I surrounded myself with so many good people in that time,” Severus spat.

The two made there way onto the third floor in a silence so awkward Severus could feel it. Though it seemed to be affecting Lupin far more negatively than it affected him.

“Regulus always liked you,” said Lupin turning hopeful eyes on him.

Severus snorted. “Regulus liked me because your brother hated me. We just ran in the same circles.”

“Yeah,” Lupin agreed, the slightest edge coloring his words, “rough circles.”

“Because Regulus and myself so often taunted and picked on those we outnumbered,” he spat in return. Seeing Lupin’s raised eyebrows and knowing where the man would take the conversation, Severus stopped him before he could start speaking. “Look Lupin, I don’t really care to hear your thoughts or opinions on anything. And I’d much rather not reminisce with the likes of you. Most of your fond memories of our Hogwarts years are not fond in my mind.”

To his dismay Lupin seemed to deflate at that reminder. “I know Severus and I’m sorry. For what we did back then and for annoying you now.”

Unable to take it anymore, Severus rounded on the werewolf. “I don’t need nor want an apology from you,” he sneered.

“I know,” Lupin stated simply, obviously not intimidated by Severus’s temper. “But you have it all the same. I know it isn’t easy for either of us in this situation… but…” Lupin seemed to steel himself before locking eyes with his companion, “…but we’re all that’s left. Pettigrew hardly counts as a person and Frank and Alice can’t even remember there own names let alone our years at Hogwarts. Marlene and Mary Macdonald died a long time ago as did most of the others from our class; James, Sirius, and Lily included. All of the Slytherins from our year joined Voldemort-”

“Don’t say his name,” Severus hissed breaking the wolf’s tirade.

It did him little good for Lupin simply corrected himself an continued his rambling. “The few that are left of from our year are either Death Eaters or barely a part of this war. We’re all that’s left of our generation to fight You-Know-Who. So like it or not, we’re in this together. And that means we should probably find some way to get along.”

Fierce eyes continued to hold Severus’s as he contemplated the man before him. Since when had Remus Lupin grown a backbone?

Tilting his head in the slightest nod he could manage, Severus conceded that the wolf might have something close to a point.

Noting his hesitation, Lupin threw up his hand placatingly. “I’m not asking for us to be best friends or even friends for that matter. I’d just settle for civility or at least a step above open hostility.”

Leaning away from the wolf, Severus contemplated his words. “Why do you care about my opinion or cooperation?”

“Because we’re on the same side now,” Lupin answered with honest simplicity. “And I know that you are invaluable to the Order. We owe you a good deal Severus, myself included. I tried the spying thing and it didn’t go over nearly as well as I’d hoped. I can appreciate what you do for us. So I care about your opinion.”

Severus continued staring at Lupin at a loss for words. What did he say to the man who’d helped torment for his seven years at Hogwarts? To one of the many he would seem to betray in a few short months – for the Headmaster had only months at best.

Severus settled for a soft “thank you” before continuing their patrol. Though he did not receive the silence he’d yearned for at the beginning of the night, Severus found that the small talk between them wasn’t nearly as burdensome as he’d previously believed.


	10. Spies, Betrayals, and the Plot pt. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *Wipes brow and lets out deep breath.* Well we’ve finally made it to the end!...of HBP! This book took a lot out of me you guys, but DH is almost certainly going to be worse. So buckle up and hang on cause the angst and the feels is where I live. We are nearing the end of this little fic and I have to take a moment to say thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through this one. You guys keep me going!  
> *Slowly raises “Will Work For Reviews” sign.* Please let me know what you guys think in the reviews/comments. I love hearing from everyone and I’m not above shamelessly begging to know what you think. As always, I’ll see you guys in the next chapter!  
> 

“Murder! Murder in the bathrooms! Murder!” An ethereal voice screeched from the corridor up ahead.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Severus ran towards the sound just in time to recognize the voice as that of ever annoying Moaning Myrtle. With a quiet curse, Severus condemned his own stupidity at following the voice of the overly dramatic ghost. Yet, his gut told him to pursue the matter further. Something about her frantic tone set his teeth on edge.

Bursting into the closest bathroom – thankfully a mens – Severus found himself, once again, in the midst of one of Potter’s many problems. Draco Malfoy laid sprawled out on the floor with several vicious looking cuts pouring blood from his face and torso. On his knees above the prone boy, looking equally as pale, Potter seemed to be caught between shock and horror.

Recognizing the curse in an instance, Severus wasted no time in pushing Potter roughly out of the way. Bending low over the youngest Malfoy, Severus began muttering the necessary healing spells. The spell was obviously one of his own creation, one he’d used often enough to be able to perform the counter curse in his sleep.

 _Sectumsempra_ had taken him months and months of work to perfect but the counter curse for healing the terrible wounds had taken far longer. In truth, he’d never needed a counter to the spell until it became a favorite of certain Death Eaters. Certain Death Eaters who took pleasure in irony while dishing out punishment on those who’d earned the Dark Lord’s repeated ire. He’d taught Dumbledore the counter soon after swapping sides. Helping those Order Members unfortunate enough to be hit by his pet curse had gone a long way in endearing him to the Headmaster.

Yet, in all of his long years, Severus never thought he’d be expected to perform the counter curse on a student. Much less on a student that had been attacked by Harry Potter.

By his third use of the incantation, Severus felt confident enough to lift Draco to his feet. The teen wouldn’t be able to stand on his on, nor would he be able to get himself to the hospital wing. Which meant Severus needed to take him. Which meant trusting that Potter feared him enough to not dare defying a direct order. Hedging his bets, Severus half-lifted Draco to his feet.

“You need the hospital wing,” he told Draco in what he hoped was a soft tone. “There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that…Come…” He waited until they’d reached the door before turning a furious glare on Potter. “And you, Potter… You wait here for me.”

Half walking and half carrying Draco to the hospital wing, Severus’s mind flew through an array of possibilities as to how Potter had learned that spell. He certainly hadn’t learned it from anyone in the Order, of that much Severus felt reasonably certain. Black might have had a twisted sense of humor but he wouldn’t risk his godson falling into such dark magic just for the sake of a poorly executed prank. And despite his brain’s immediate jump to the worst possible solution, Severus couldn’t find any indication that the boy might be possessed by the Dark Lord. Certainly the Dark Lord had reason to be angry at Draco, but to injure him in such a way would be tantamount to rash stupidity and the Dark Lord was neither rash nor stupid. However Potter couldn’t have learned it from school either. No student at Hogwarts knew that spell, not even the children of Death Eaters. It wouldn’t be taught in any classroom nor could it be found in any textbook or…

Assuredly not.

He couldn’t have been that foolish could he? He’d left the old textbook in his office at first, but hadn’t he banished it and all other copies of that text to some forgotten cupboard years back? Unfortunately, Severus couldn’t fully recall. After Lily’s death he’d been unable to even look at the book that he’d poured into as a teenager. The first and only new textbook he’d ever owned. The book he’d made so many corrections to, corrections he still used today, and which he’d first began scribbling down ideas for his own spells.

Severus could still remember his elation as he’d finally perfected _Sectumsempra_ and had scrawled the curse into the margins of his potions book. If Potter had gotten his hands on that book... But then, Slughorn said that Potter had been doing excellent in Potions class. He’d even gone so far as to compare the boy to Lily. And while Lily had been utterly brilliant at school, her potions grades had always been perfection because he’d helped her at every opportunity.

If Potter’s skill wasn’t hereditary and hadn’t shown itself until this year, then there were only so many possible explanations for his new found talent. And only one of those explanations lined up with recent events.

After leaving Draco in the capable hands of Madam Pomfrey, Severus hurried back to the boy’s bathroom. Calling Potter out on his poorly conceived lies proved laughably simple and using Legilimancy on the boy had never been a difficult task. Potter had his old textbook and had decided to follow the instructions and advice of a rather screwed up teenager. Severus was just surprised that Potter had finally listened to something he said.

However that surprise wasn’t enough to keep him from giving Potter months worth of detentions and having a lengthy discussion of the boy’s actions with Minerva.

***

After Potter’s foolish actions, Minerva had been forced to take over Severus’s patrol duty this evening. He’d spent an untold number of hours playing as mediator between the obstinate and angry Narcissa Malfoy and the calm and collected Headmaster. Lucius may not have the same clout with the Ministry these days, but his wife could still cause a very serious problem in this matter.

The minister wouldn’t allow Harry Potter to be expelled and neither would Albus, the boy’s future remained too unpredictable for such an action. Narcissa Malfoy, however, did not see the situation in the same light. Considering Lucius’s known political leanings and his current existence as an escaped fugitive, it made sense that Narcissa would want Potter expelled from the one place he could be deemed safe with complete certainty.

Yet it also made sense that a mother would require retribution for acts that injured her son. Somehow, Severus had managed to convince the furious woman that he would handle Potter. A promise that Minerva both fully supported and worried over.

The past few months had displayed a rather obvious change in her old friend. While Severus had always been cagey and sullen, these days he hardly spoke with her about anything of consequence and when he did, there was always a dour note to his words. At first, she’d blamed the ever increasing pressure that seemed to weigh him down at all times. But after the events around Christmas, she found herself doubting things she hadn’t since first meeting the younger man.

 _Once a Death Eater always a Death Eater,_ Moody’s words rang through her ears. A quick shake of her head dispelled such foolish notions. Severus was her friend.

 _Snape turned on those_ _he once claimed as friends, who’s to say he won’t do it again._

He wouldn’t Minerva assured herself as she found her partner for the evening – Kingsley – waiting for her in the entrance hall. Moddy didn’t know Severus like she did. She’d spent some fifteen years getting to know the formidable Potions Master. If she couldn’t trust him then she couldn’t trust anyone.

Despite her reassurances, doubt continued to niggle at the back of her mind.

“You’re thinking awfully hard about something tonight professor,” Kingsley’s voice broke through her tirade of thoughts.

“What makes you say that?” She asked without any real curiosity.

“You’re awfully quiet. We’re on the second floor already and you’ve hardly said a word.”

Minerva considered him for a moment. She’d greeted him in the hall as they’d begun their rounds and she knew she’d answered a few pleasantries to him as they walked. But for the life of her she couldn’t recall a single thing they’d discussed.

“I’m sorry Kingsley,” she smiled sheepishly.

“Want to talk about it?”

Sighing deeply Minerva considered her options. “Not really, but it is supposed to help with ones problems isn’t it?”

“I believe I’ve heard that before,” he answered her with an encouraging smile.

“Do you trust everyone in the Order?”

Kingsley’s smile faltered ever so slightly. “That’s a difficult question. I trust most of them but at varying levels.” Her confusion must have been noticeable because Kingsley continued as they made their way onto the third floor.

“Take Alastor and Tonks for example. I’d trust either of them with my life, no question. They’re loyal to a fault and are downright handy in a fight. However, I wouldn’t leave either of them alone with a child under the age of fourteen.”

Minerva couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Fair point,” she conceded.

“And then take Dedalus Diggle or Elphias. I wouldn’t take either of them into a fight nor would I provide them with top secret information. However, I trust them to both do everything in their power for the Order and to do the right thing in every situation. I trust Dumbledore and you completely but I realize that your priority will always be your students and that Dumbledore has a bigger picture in mind while leading. Did that answer your question?”

Minerva nodded absently as she took his meaning to heart. Kingsley had an interesting perspective on the world and a very good point. Trust wasn’t some blanket statement or feeling. The question remained though. How much did she trust Severus?

Once again, Kingsley broke the silence between them. “Whose allegiance are you questioning?”

Stunned, Minerva’s eyebrows hit her hairline as she turned wide eyes on her companion. “I never said-”

“Why else would you ask such a question,” Kingsley responded kindly.

“I…” thinking hard before she answered, Minerva wondered if it might help her to have an outsider’s view. Set firm in her decision once made, the head of Gryffindor ploughed ahead in the usual custom of her house. “It’s Severus.”

“Ah,” Kingsley replied knowingly. “Lover’s spat?”

“What?” Minerva blanched, feeling heat creep into her cheeks at such an implication. “Severus and I are not lovers! He could be my son for heaven’s sake. If you-”

Kingsley deep laughter cut her off. “It’s only a joke Minerva.”

“A poor one at that!”

“You think so?” He chuckled before relenting. “My mistake then. So, you’re concerned about Severus?”

Minerva grasped his olive branch with everything she had. “Yes.”

“Join the crew,” Kingsley replied lightly. “He doesn’t exactly garner a lot of trust or good will from the rest of the Order.”

A pregnant silence followed them as they searched through empty classrooms and deserted corridors.

“I know,” she admitted. “But I’ve always believed that’s because they didn’t know him.”

“Like you do.”

It hadn’t been a question, so she didn’t treat it as one. “Severus is complicated on the best of days. He’s been through a lot, much of it at far too young an age. Since he started teaching here we’ve grown closer. I didn’t want to trust him or even really like him at first, but overtime we’ve become friends.”

“Then why the change of heart?”

“It’s complicated,” she said with a shake of her head.

Kingsley shot her an odd look. “Most things are. But something had to have changed for you to feel this way now.”

“He’s been distant this year. Refuses to answer some questions and navigates around difficult subjects without me realizing he’s doing it.”

Kingsley nodded as he stopped to lean against one of the large windows that faced the grounds. Both quietly observed the magnificent grounds of the old castle as they thought. Watching a warm wind blow through the tree tops of the Forbidden Forest, Minerva felt a sense of foreboding. As if something big was hurdling towards them.

“Which questions and subjects are being avoided?”

Minerva cocked her head and propped her elbows on the windows ledge. “Concerning ones.”

“Minerva,” Kingsley sighed demonstrating a weariness that had previously been unseen, “I don’t know what to tell you. Severus has my goodwill only because of Albus’s word that he’s on our side. I never really liked him when he was my professor and I liked him even less after becoming an Auror. He has my respect for the danger he places himself in, but I trust Dumbledore not him. Have you taken your concerns to the Headmaster?”

She should have known better than to hope for a different answer. “Albus wont’ hear a word against Severus,” she explained. “He seemed close to disappointed when I voiced my worries to him.”

Kinsgley’s brow creased in contemplation. “Has Dumbledore ever given you a reason for his steadfast trust of Severus?”

“Nothing beyond that Severus had experienced great remorse for joining You-Know-Who and offered to become our spy.”

Kingsley simply nodded in return. Turning to fully face her, he placed a comforting hand over hers. “You know Severus better than any of us, save Dumbledore. If you think there’s reason for concern, that’s not something I take lightly. But it could also simply be boiled down to stress.”

A lightness began spreading through her chest at the prospect of a plausible explanation that didn’t implicate her young friend. Hope coursed through her veins as she clung to the possibility that all of this would boil down to a misunderstanding.

“Do you really think that could be the case?” she asked, doing her best to mask her rampant hope for something better.

Obviously, she didn’t hide it well enough. Kingsley’s hand squeezed hers comfortingly.

“As I said, you know him best. However,” a note of caution entered his voice, “I would advise you to tread carefully in this area. Emotional entanglements can lead us down dangerous paths.”*

With that warning provided, the two continued with their task. Though the weight she carried on her shoulders had lessened at Kingsley’s words, Minerva couldn’t shake the ominous threat that darkness loomed just ahead of them.

***

Of all the things she’d expected from the week, she had not anticipated Severus’s tale concerning Misters Potter and Malfoy. She’d always expected so much more from Harry Potter that it was hard to even contemplate his actions. The mild mannered boy she knew to be capable of so much good if he’d just use his head had completely shocked her.

However, no one had taken the situation worse than Severus Snape. He’d reached new levels of disdain for Potter that, until this point, Minerva did not believe possible. The mere mention of the boy’s name was often enough to send Severus into a black mood that offered no return for the former Potions Master. Something subtle about her old friend had changed over the past few weeks and Minerva could not recall if the change occurred before or after the current scandal. Certainly she’d been worried about his moods and evasion tactics before, but for the past several weeks Severus seemed to have retreated into himself entirely.

Severus had almost completely withdrawn from the rest of the staff. He’d never been overly friendly with them before but a begrudging respect had always been present. These days he could hardly be bothered to share a kind word with the others. As always she found herself to be an exception, though even she found herself spending fewer nights in Severus’s company. Last year they had been almost inseparable yet this year something had slowly wedged its way between them and Minerva, for the life of her, couldn’t figure out what.

He’d taken to snapping at the students more frequently. Though, to be fair, that wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary. However, these days his words held more of a bite and not even those in Slytherin could be deemed safe from the professor’s temper.

Even his affection for the Headmaster seemed to be waning. As of late, she and Severus had had many conversations concerning Dumbledore’s absences and his apparent distraction. Such discussion usually left Minerva feeling as if she’d missed something incredibly important and that Severus had not. Yet he refused to share his knowledge with her.

Despite her best attempts to ignore the soft voice whispering in her head, she still couldn’t completely dispel Moody’s earlier warning.

_“Once a Death Eater always a Death Eater.”_ Moody’s words taunted her once again.

Shaking her head of such thoughts, Minerva poured herself a glass of Ogden’s just as her drinking partner sauntered into the room.

“You look like you could really use this,” Minerva observed as he sank heavily into the accompanying armchair.

“Is that your way of saying I look like crap?” he asked after downing his glass in one go.

Minerva chuckled. “No but judging by your current drinking habits I’d say you agree.”

“Touche,” said Severus. “It’s been a hell of a month.”

“I find that I agree with you wholeheartedly.” Looking into the depths of brown liquid in her glass Minerva began summing up the hellatious past few weeks. “What with Dumbledore’s frequent absences, Potter’s stupidity, and Mr. Malfoy’s near death experience, I feel as if I’ve aged ten years in the span of a few days.”

“Yes,” Severus agreed, lingering over the word as he thought. “Perhaps we should leave it behind us and discuss something more uplifting this evening.”

“Wise words,” Minerva nodded and cast around for something else to discuss. However, her thoughts kept lingering over Mr. Malfoy’s pale face as he laid in the hospital wing and Potter’s obvious guilt as she’d berated him for his stupidity. He’d come so close to killing a young man because he hadn’t used the brain he claimed to have.

“Dougal used to say that dragonflies were the souls of the departed watching over us,” Minerva began realizing what an odd tangent she found herself on but unable to stem the tide of words. “That when we die it isn’t permanent, just a temporary sleep before the adventure renews again. A rather fantastical notion if I ever heard one, but nevertheless a nice thought.”  
  
“So you want to die and come back as a dragonfly?” Severus asked without missing a beat.  
  
Looking over at him, she noticed humor lurking in the depths of his black eyes, something she hadn’t seen in a while. Minerva shrugged in response. “I never said I believed it,” she explained. “I just like the imagery.”  
  
Undeniable humor spilled from his eyes and into the lines of Severus’s face, making him look far younger than she could ever remember him being. “I say, let’s talk about something and else and you decide the best possible subject for conversation is what happens when we die?”

“Well when you put it like that it does seem a bit macabre.”

“That it does,” Severus chuckled. “Who is Dougal? You’ve never mentioned him before.”

A blush tinged Minerva’s cheeks as she realized her mistake. A blush that did not escape the notice of the ever-observant Severus. “He’s no one.”

“You fondly remember the words of no one? Words that were obviously spoken frequently around you.” Severus argued, not unkindly.

“Do you ever just sit back and enjoy a conversation without analyzing every aspect of it?” Minerva lamented.

Cocking an eyebrow at her he stated the obvious. “I’m a spy Minerva, of course I don’t. And you’re attempting to divert the conversation. Something else I’m relatively skilled at recognizing.”

Minerva sat in silence for several long minutes in the face of Severus’s teasing.

“It’s none of my business of course,” Severus admitted awkwardly, “I apologize for implying otherwise.”

Obviously, she’d been silent for too long as now her drinking partner wore a look of self loathing mixed with embarrassment. She had to remember that Severus didn’t have many friends other than her. He occasionally missed social cues in normal settings and often thought himself in the wrong for teasing her too much. Minerva had been under the impression that they’d left such issues behind them, but recent months had kept them further apart than either normally liked. Fondness warmed her, reminding her why the man in front of her had become one of her closest friends.

“It’s no matter, Severus,” she assured. “It’s so many years in the past now that it ought not bother me any longer.”

Severus sat in silence to frightened of offending her to continue prying.

“Dougal,” she began, her throat thick with emotion, “was my first love. And I believe I might have been his as well. He grew up near me and I fell head over heels for him.”

“I thought…” Severus ventured but stopped just as suddenly. Minerva gave him an encouraging nod prodding him to continue. “I thought your husband’s name was Elphinstone or something of that nature.”

“It was,” Minerva replied softly. “I never married Dougal, though I desperately wanted to. He was a muggle and I couldn’t bring myself to subject him or myself to a half life. Relationships between witches and muggles often don’t go well.” Severus tensed at that declaration. “My mother kept our world secret from my father until I started performing accidental magic. It destroyed their marriage but they stayed together for me and my brothers. I didn’t want that for myself.”

“I understand,” Severus muttered almost too quietly to hear. “My father was a muggle as well. He hated magic, though there wasn’t much he didn’t hate so that might not have had anything to do with magic itself.”

Minerva’s eyebrows flew up to her hairline at the surprising confession. The only other time Severus mentioned his father, he’d been so far into a bottle liquor that she’d been surprised he was conscious let alone talking. However, this time he seemed perfectly in control of himself.

“It’s a bad mix,” he agreed steepling his fingers under his chin and turning his brooding gaze to the softly burning fire.

“Not always,” Minerva reminded him kindly. “Some people manage it.”

Severus nodded absentmindedly, though from the far off look in his eyes she could tell he was no longer paying explicit attention to her. Maybe that’s why she felt at ease enough to continue discussing her first love. Or maybe she’d just held onto it all for too long. In either case, Minerva found herself spilling the story of her first love and her former husband to the quiet man beside her. Time passed as she regaled him with story after story. Despite his many faults, Severus was a fantastic listener.

She’d never shared these stories with anyone, not even Dumbledore had warranted such trust. But for some undefinable reason, Minerva felt as if Severus might actually understand her plight.  
  
“Have you ever been in love Severus?” she asked hoping to dispel the quiet that had settled between them after her story.  
  
Leaning forward in his chair and pouring himself another drink, Severus sneered. “Of course not. Love is a gimmick to sell cards and other ridiculous nonsense.”  
  
“There is the hopeless romantic we all know and love,” Minerva quipped. Though she couldn’t have explained it if asked, she knew he’d just told a lie. “You can't have gone this long without loving someone.” When he remained quiet and inhumanly still, Minerva’s curiosity prodded her to try again. “Have you ever even dated someone Severus? I can't recall you ever mentioning anything of the sort.”

Severus’s shoulders formed the familiar tight line that signaled his discomfort. “That's because there's never been anyone Minerva,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “Not all of us need budding social lives to find contentment.”

Normally so good at controlling his emotions and feelings, this time Minerva could tell she’d hit a nerve with her old friend. _Well,_ she thought to herself, _can’t stop prying now_. “Yes, but all of us need someone to hold on. It makes the living worth it.”

“I have you and Albus, what more do I need?”

“Well I am flattered but that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Does it matter?” he challenged.

Caught off guard by his question, Minerva cocked her head at him. Giving him a curios look she encouraged him to continue.

“Does it matter if it's romantic love?” Severus clarified. “It shouldn't if it does. As long as you have someone to remember you after your gone.”

Minerva’s stomach sank at the implications of his words. “You expect Albus and I to outlive you? You’re far younger than either of us.”

“We're at war,” he elaborated. “You're a member of the secret rebellious organization that Albus heads and I'm a spy in the Dark Lords inner circle. The likelihood of all three of us surviving...”

“I may be getting up in years, but that's no reason to doubt me," she exclaimed attempting humor.

“I'd never doubt you Minerva.”

An oppressive silence weighed the air between them, louder than any sound she'd heard before. Severus didn’t doubt her but he obviously doubted himself. How long had he carried this weight alone? How long had he believed himself destined to die in this never-ending war? True, none of them had any guarantees and survival seemed a distant hope at best, but Severus couldn’t die in this war. It simply wouldn’t be fair. He’d done so much for the Order that he’d missed out on having a life.

“You may doubt yourself Severus,” Minerva said fiercely, “but I do not. You are not going to weasel your way out of our drinking nights that easily." That seemed to spark an ounce of humor back into the Professor’s eyes. "In five years time you and I will be seated right here in this very room sharing a strong drink to celebrate the downfall of You-Know-Who.”

“You still expect to be teaching in five years?” he sneered without any bite.

“Not all of us detest the profession, Severus.”

“I'd detest it a lot less if there weren't so many unruly children involved," he quipped.

“Either way,” Minerva continued bringing them back on topic. “Wherever you find yourself in five years, you'd best make your way to Hogwarts on this Friday night to share a drink with the love of your life." She said the last with a cheeky wink that startled a deep chuckle from Severus.

“Very well then," he agreed. "On this night in five years time, I Severus Snape swear to meet here in the staffroom of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy in order to have a sturdy drink with the love of my life" Severus shot her a wink at that, "Minerva McGonagall. And will only miss such an important meeting on pain of death. Good enough?"

"I do believe so,” she conceded. “I Minerva McGonagall do hereby swear the same."

“No lengthy speeches about the swearing?”

“You seem to have that well covered.”

“So you're copying my work.”

“More like agreeing with the sentiment.”

Severus muttered something that sounded like bloody cheating Gryffindors before raising his glass to hers. "It's a date then."

"A date."

Though the evening grew darker as night drew on, neither of them paid attention to the gathering darkness. For a final few moments Severus and Minerva enjoyed the company of a stiff drink and a stable friendship. Neither realizing it would be their last.

***

“Death Eaters in the castle!” Filius yelled before he even made it through Snape’s office door. The diminutive professor burst into his office without preamble bringing a bone deep dread with him. “Minerva sent me to find you Severus,” he shouted far too loudly in the quiet dungeons. “Death Eaters have somehow made it into the castle!”

Jumping quickly into action, Severus grabbed his wand and began planning his next move. “Where are they Filius?”

“The Astronomy Tower!”

“Thank you,” Severus muttered before pointing his wand at his colleague.

“What are you-” Filius didn’t have time to finish his question before Severus’s nonverbal spell hit him, knocking him unconscious.

Severus caught the small man before his body hit the floor. “I’m sorry Filius,” he whispered knowing the professor couldn’t hear him. “But it’s safer here.”

Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he drew himself to full height knowing in his gut that tonight would most likely be his last as a professor of Hogwarts. If Albus proved right – which was likely – he’d return as Headmaster next year, if not he’d be so entrenched in Voldemort’s plans that the castle would be the least of his worries.

Barking orders at Potter’s friends who’d been outside his office spying all evening, Severus clenched his wand and ran as hard as he could into the battle. Dumbledore had told him and Minerva that he would be away for the evening and he’d be taking Potter with him. Only Dumbledore’s absence explained how Death Eaters would make it into the castle in the first place and if Dumbledore had returned already the first place he’d go would be into the thick of action.

The Headmaster had postulated that he might need assistance on his return, he’d explained that the curse which had claimed his hand had been troubling him more and more, he’d even explained that he thought the end might come soon. But Severus hadn’t expected it to be tonight. He knew he’d never truly be prepared for the moment, but he’d at least hoped for some forewarning in order to prepare himself. Yet all too often life did not operate under the hopes and wishes of those who lived it.

The corridor under the tower was absolute chaos by the time he reached it. The Death Eaters gathered threw jinxes in every direction barely missing the Order members and students who’d come to fight them. Noting the collapsed staircase and that Draco wasn’t present, he could only assume that the others had set a trap for the Headmaster.

Taking a final deep breath he plunged into the fray.

It took far less time than he’d expected to dodge the various jinxes and get through the collapsed staircase. However by the time he burst through the door leading to the ramparts, he realized he was out of time. Four Death Eaters that he couldn’t be bothered to identify flanked Draco who held an obviously ill Dumbledore at wand point.

One of the Death Eaters said something to him, but the words slipped through Severus’s ears without meaning. The scene before told him everything he needed to know. Two broomsticks meant that Potter had to be around here somewhere for he hadn’t been down below and he certainly wouldn’t miss a chance to play hero. Draco’s faltering wand hand told him that the Dark Lord and Dumbledore had been right: Draco just didn’t have it in him to kill another. That at least gave Severus some sense of relief.

He interpreted all of this in the space of one breath from another. What truly captivated him about the scene on the lightning struck tower were the piercing blue eyes that connected with his almost the moment he entered. Those eyes which had so often been filled with humor or patience now pled with Severus to do that which he’d promised.

And it disgusted him to no end.

Apparently Albus realized that he couldn’t bring himself to do it, that it was killing him to play this part. “Severus…” the Headmaster pled quietly. His eyes held no condemnation only the desire for everything to end.

Dumbledore had left tonight knowing it could be his last, but he hadn’t seen fit to share that with Severus. He’d taken so much for granted, had used Severus in so many ways, and had lied to him by not explaining Harry’s role in this war from the beginning. And yet as Severus shoved Draco aside and walked to his mentor, none of that seemed to matter anymore.

“Severus…” Dumbledore repeated. “…please…”

Feeling self-hatred and loathing carve permanent marks into his expression, Severus raised his wand pointing it directly at Dumbledore’s chest. Something almost like peace seemed to cross the Headmaster’s features as Severus said the incantation.

A jet of green light left his wand and hit its target perfectly. The force of the curse was enough to blast Dumbledore back like a rag doll and out of sight over the battlements. There’d be no body to parade in front of the Order, no chance for Dumbledore’s memory to be humiliated by Death Eaters wanting to strike out at the old man’s lifeless body. In that at least, Severus felt something that might one day be peace.

He quickly jumped back into action, knowing that if he allowed himself to stand there and feel the pain, he’d collapse completely. Then it would have all been for nothing. Seizing Draco by the scruff of the neck he pulled the teenager through the door ahead of the others. A quick order to those still fighting ensured that he’d done his part to get as many Death Eaters to safety as possible.

He’d accomplished his mission. Dumbledore was dead and Draco was safe. Yet even as he fled through the halls of the only home he’d ever known, Severus knew his real mission had only just begun.

They reached the grounds before Potter finally caught up to him as he knew the boy would. Potter had too much of his father’s brash temper and far too much of his mother’s stubbornness to give up on a fight so easily. After instructing Draco to keep going, he turned to face the boy who had caused all of this. Though it was no fault of his own, Harry Potter was the crux of almost every issue Severus now faced.

Because of the boy and Severus’s foolishness, Lily had died and the Dark Lord had been destroyed. In order to atone for his past sins he’d willingly agreed to protect the only piece of Lily left in this world. Due to that agreement, he’d been forced to spy on the Dark Lord and now to kill his mentor. The overwhelming grief that threatened to drown Severus wanted to blame everything on Harry Potter. And for this moment, Severus was inclined to agree with that notion.

As the boy shouted curse after curse at him, Severus parried them with laughable ease. He toyed with Potter, hoping that perhaps in that manner the teenager would feel even a fraction of the pain Severus currently felt. In that way at least he wouldn’t be alone.

Potter’s attempts to use his own spells against him threw Severus into a rage, but it was the boy calling him a coward that truly forced him into madness.

“Don’t Call Me Coward!” he shouted while slamming power into the teenager. Hoping that it caused Potter a fraction of the agony he’d caused Severus by using that word.

Severus had given everything to bring down the Dark Lord. He’d spent his entire life revolving around this problem, never allowing himself friends or a family because he couldn’t possibly deserve anything like that until he’d atoned for his past sins.

As per usual with Potter, fate seemed to jump out of nowhere and save him. This time fate took the form of one exceedingly protective Hippogriff. Running as fast as he could, Severus didn’t have time to look back at the castle. All he could do from now on was stay one step ahead of those chasing him and pray that the Dark Lord would, for once, be pleased.

***

“Snape killed Dumbledore.”

The words rang through Minerva’s ears but they didn’t seem to make any sense. Severus couldn’t… he wouldn’t have… The earth seemed to sway as the words sank in.

“Snape,” Minerva repeated faintly as she fell into a chair conjured by Poppy. “We all wondered…” Of course she’d wondered. Certainly when he’d been hired fifteen years ago and even here recently as Severus began acting so very strange. “…but he trusted…” _I trusted._ “…always… Snape…” _Severus_ , her mind rebelled. “…I can’t believe it…”

Lupin said something about Severus’s ability as an Occulmens which might have made sense had she fully heard it.

“But Dumbledore swore he was on our side!” whispered Tonks. “I always thought Dumbledore must know something about Snape that we didn’t…”

And here Minerva’s own doubt reared once more. “He always hinted that he had an ironclad reason for trusting Snape,” she muttered, dabbing watery eyes with her handkerchief. “I mean… with Snape’s history…” A history that she’d fully believed he regretted. “….of course people were bound to wonder…” _I wondered at first too._ “but Dumbledore told me explicitly that Snape’s repentance had been genuine…” right before he encouraged me to befriend the new Potions Master. “Wouldn’t hear a word against him!”

But that was true for her as well. She’d considered him a friend, believed him to be so much more than what the other Order members saw. Their habit of drinks on Friday nights had led to deep conversations and implicit trust. To the point that she’d come to view him as him as a friend – an insufferable friend, but a friend nonetheless. Minerva had believed that Severus had changed for the better. She believed in him!

Now she realized just how well she’d been played. To the point that even in the face of his betrayal she couldn’t accept it. There had to be another explanation. Yet as the others continued talking and explaining their portions of the story, Minerva couldn’t come up with a plausible reason why.

If he’d wanted to protect Malfoy why not help Dumbledore. Even a weakened Albus could have taken the four Death Eaters with ease if he’d had a wand. Or why not act like the spy he claimed to be and take the out Death Eaters subtly, without them realizing his participation. Severus was certainly skilled enough to have achieved such a feat.

No matter how she twisted events or reasons, she couldn’t logically think her way out of it. Severus had deceived them all, played them like perfect fools. Even Dumbledore had fallen for his act. Understanding that everyone had been duped by the Potions Master didn’t lessen the sting of betrayal for Minerva.

She knew that in time she’d be angry with him for murdering their shared mentor. That guilt would overwhelm her as she reconsidered the many doubts she’d had over this past year. Minerva could even accept that she would come to hate the person she’d long considered a weird mixture of friend and son. But in this moment, despite the numbness that sank into her bones, all she could feel was a profound sense of loss.

Both her mentor and one of her closest friends were gone in one evening. She had other acquaintances and certainly wouldn’t face this alone, but Hogwarts would be less. They would all mourn Dumbledore together. Each able to lean on one the other as they dealt with that grief. In contrast to the widespread grief for the Headmaster, Minerva alone would mourn the loss of Severus Snape.

Pulling herself together in typical fashion, Minerva brought herself back into the conversation of the Order members around them. They’d lost much tonight. The Order of the Phoenix would continue the war without their founder and leader. Hogwarts would face the following years without the man who’d given so much to both the castle and its inhabitants. The future had never before looked so bleak.

But whatever would come would come no matter what. It was up to them to face it when it did.

*Not my line, but if you can guess where it came from I’ll give you one hundred house points!*


	11. Revelations, Reconciliations, and Kings Cross pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well, it seems we find ourselves with an earlier than expected update! I have so much more to go with DH so I’m fairly certain it will have at least three parts, but this was such a good place to end this section on. So you guys get an early chapter! If you recognize the last little portion of this chapter, it’s Minerva’s perspective of my one shot In Search of Peace. If you want Sev’s perspective of that little exchange you can find it on my works page (that’s right shameless plug!)  
> Thanks for reading and be sure to let me know what you guys think! As always, I’ll see you guys in the next chapter!

The days of summer drew long as the world, despite everything, continued turning. Dumbledore’s death still left a sick feeling in Minerva’s stomach. He simply couldn’t be gone! Albus had been old since she’d first met him and yet it never occurred to her that one day, she might face the dawn knowing he never again would. Albus had always seemed immortal, as if nothing could touch him or bring him down.

His life had been a bright spot in such a dark world. The Headmaster’s guidance and strength had pulled them out of one Wizarding War and had helped them prepare for the second. Albus’s easy and eccentric nature had made him an exceedingly capable leader of Hogwarts. The students and staff knew, without a doubt, that he cared for each of them. And his calming manner had weathered the storm of many an angsty teenager.

Without him the world seemed just a bit colder. As if it should at least hesitate in its spinning simply to commemorate the passing of such a person. However, the world rarely paused for such a thing and life had to continue marching on. Albus’s spirit may have seemed immortal, but his body certainly had not been. And it had been those many wonderful traits about him that had led to his untimely death.

His belief that everyone deserved a second chance and that even those with the blackest hearts could change their ways, had been the catalyst for his death. Albus’s unwavering trust placed in his friends had led to his own destruction.

Severus had made certain of that.

Weeks had blown past Minerva as she dealt with both the death of her mentor and the betrayal of her friend. Grief for Albus had manifested into anger at Severus. The time she’d spent mourning the former Head of Slytherin now felt like it had been wasted on someone who didn’t deserve it. Her anger on that front swiftly settled into hatred. She could never outright despise him as so many others in the Order did, they’d been far too close for that, but Minerva felt justified in her deep-seated dislike of Severus’s actions.

Life at Hogwarts had continued as well. Though the castle felt lesser now, it remained a stronghold. As brick and mortar is want to do, it had weathered many storms before this and would weather many storms after.

The board had gathered the staff together today in the enlarged staff room in order to announce their decision on the next Headmaster. With He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in power and the greatest champion of the light lying cold beneath the earth, it stood to reason that Minerva would not hold that title any longer.

She and the other Order members had prepared for this day. The staff had been prepared as well. They’d prepared for contingencies based on possible candidates from within the Ministry. She’d even prepared herself for the possibility of Umbridge returning to the school.

She’d not; however, prepared herself to see Severus Snape walk through the staff room doors.

Rage boiled through her veins at the sheer audacity of the man. He’d murdered the previous Headmaster and now had the gal to return to the scene of the crime and take Dumbledore’s position. A small part of her brain registered that perhaps they should have considered this possibility. But how could they have?

Snape had been condemned far and wide as a murderer. Harry Potter himself had informed the public that Snape had been the one to kill Dumbledore. And yet now, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named deemed it acceptable and inconspicuous to place that man in charge?

It had to be some morbid cosmic joke, she reasoned.

But there he stood, looking the same as ever. Greasy black hair clung to a gaunt and pallid face. Cold, black eyes sat atop an abnormally large nose. He even dressed in the same billowing robes which seemed to hover about him threateningly. Minerva might have considered it all a ruse, but the trademark sneer that marred his face meant it could only be Severus Snape standing at the head of the staff room.

“We’d like to thank Professor Snape,” one of the older board members whose name Minerva could never remember droned, “for accepting this position on such short notice.”

A tip of Severus’s head served as a nod, but no one in the room clapped at the announcement. Looking around, Minerva could see varying expressions of shock and anger on the faces of the staff. Expressions that almost certainly mirrored her own.

Tension settled into the air as the old board member continued his speech of how Severus embodied many of the traits that Hogwarts stood for. Integrity, honor, selflessness, etc. However, Minerva couldn’t even appreciate the irony of such words because she and the rest of the faculty had begun glaring daggers at their former colleague.

Seething with righteous anger, Minerva refused to allow this charade to continue any longer. Before she could so much as hiss in indignation, Madam Hooch interrupted the proceedings.

“I’m sorry, I may be a bit slow on the uptake,” she said in a tone that implied everything but an apology, “but why is Minerva not being sworn into this position?”

“Well,” began the board member, “it’s a matter of-”

“She’s held the position since last spring,” interjected Pomona, “and she’s done quite the job all things considering.” She didn’t quite glare at Snape as she spoke, but the intent of her words were obvious to all.

“And it’s usually the tradition to elevate the deputy into the Headmaster or in this case Headmistress position,” Sinistra pointed out.

Had she any sympathy remaining for the board members who’d called this sham of a meeting, Minerva might have felt a twinge of pity for the board member who’d been speaking thus far. A quick look around the room, told him he would be completely alone in this discussion and the man’s face had lost all color at the first comment. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had made this decision, leaving the board little choice in the matter. However, that fact did not save the board from the ire of those settled in the Hogwarts staff room this evening.

The board member swallowed nervously and clutched his hands in front of him before speaking up again. “In light of the events surrounding Dumbledore’s abdication from-”

“Abdication?” Minerva snarled, stopping the little man from speaking any further. “As if Albus up and left his responsibilities?”

None of the board members gathered were foolish enough to answer her rhetorical question, though one elder lady with steely eyes and fading grey hair gave her a nod of approval. The others seemed to simply fade into their seats or the background. Obviously wishing they could be anywhere else.

“You can’t seriously allow this?” she continued, glaring at all of those gathered.

“The Ministry-” the board member attempted.

“Has no business interfering at Hogwarts,” Rolanda reminded. “Surely the Ministry recalls the implications of that fiasco.”

The little man’s eyes began darting around the room seeking assistance from any of his fellow members. Hands fidgeting widely he tried once again. “The board believes that his prior knowledge of the school and past relationship with the Headmaster-”

A dark bark of laughter escaped Minerva at the ridiculousness of the entire situation. “Past relationship?” she mocked turning to face Severus for the first time. Familiar black eyes bored into hers, a note of what might have been caution flashed through those eyes she knew so well, provoking her further. “You mean the relationship between a murderer and his victim? Or perhaps between trusted mentor and traitor? Because you certainly can’t be implying what I believe you are attempting to imply.”

“The investigation into Dumbledore’s death is still ongoing-” the little board member got no further.

“You have the report of a bloody witness,” Pomona barked. “What more do you need?”

The conversation around them continued as the board faced the open hostility of the Hogwarts staff. But for the moment, Minerva’s gazed remained locked on that of her former friend. He said nothing to defend himself from the tirades of the staff, but he seemed desperate to stop them. Had this been a year ago, she would have swiftly jumped to Severus’s defense realizing that the man had a larger game afoot.

But she couldn’t trust those instincts anymore. They’d led her to trust in someone she should never have given the time of day. And yet…

There seemed to be a warning lurking in the scowl he wore.

“You’re awfully quiet about all of this, Severus,” she said, calling him out in front of the others and testing her instincts in one motion.

“As you well know, pointless chatter has always bored me,” Severus drawled, raking his eyes around the room.

“Pointless?” she countered.

“The decision has been made,” he replied, “this is merely a formality. And since we all know each other already, it would seem to be a rather unnecessary one.”

That struck exactly the wrong chord with Rolanda. “So the opinions of your staff are unnecessary Headmaster?” She sneered the title at him in a manner that rivaled Severus in his worst moods.

“In this matter they would seem rather trivial.”

Minerva drew breath to continue hounding the man who dared to belittle them until black eyes flashed back to her. The warning therein was implicit this time. This charade needed to end. Soon.

Nodding slightly, Minerva allowed her argument to rest for now. And if she didn’t know any better, she would have sworn that the smallest amount of tension seeped out of his shoulders.

“If you have any other complaints, then I believe each of you know where to find me,” Severus continued, his tone smothered in condescension. “I expect to have a one on one meeting with you all in my office before the start of term to discuss appropriate curriculum. The newest staff appointments will be announced within the week.”

“Staff appointments?” Filius spoke up for the first time. “As in multiple?”

Severus shifted ever so slightly. “Professor Burbage has seen fit to retire early.”

“Retire early?” Sinistra queried. “She wouldn’t retire early if her life depended on it!”

“It seems as if it did,” Severus answered cryptically. “If there’s nothing else…”

He paused allowing his words to sink in with the staff. They’d be expected to teach an approved curriculum and Severus wouldn’t hesitate to report any of them if things didn’t meet his standards. They had just entered into a very dangerous game.

When no one spoke up, Severus excused himself and stalked from the room. The board members followed soon after. Some leaving the Hogwarts staff with sympathetic looks others with satisfied smirks. When only the faculty remained, silence reigned around them, encasing them in a mixture of fear and anger.

Clearing her throat, Minerva challenged that silence with all the bravery she could muster. “Watch yourselves this year. Be very cautious and bring your complaints to me first.”

“Minerva,” Filius called quietly, “Charity wouldn’t have retired without telling us…”

Minerva closed her eyes tightly, feeling her stomach drop even as she bowed her head. “All the more reason to be careful. Let’s not have any more early retirements.”

As the staff of Hogwarts filed out past her, Minerva found herself staring at two weathered armchairs by the fireplace. So much had changed in the space of a few months and there remained so much to change in the near future. Regardless of what the future held for the denizens of Hogwarts this year; Minerva knew for certain that she’d at least have Friday nights free once again.

***

_The last enemy to be defeated is death._

Severus read the familiar epithet with a sense of loss he hadn't felt so keenly in years. He'd been branded a murderer and a traitor by the light and Headmaster by the dark. All because he'd followed Dumbledore's wishes to the letter.

It was a part they'd both considered necessary and essential to this war. Yet that knowledge did nothing to help Severus cope with the loss of his one true friend in this world. He'd murdered his mentor. The man who had given him his second chance and treated him with far more kindness than he truly deserved. The man who'd become the closest thing to a father figure Severus had ever known.

And it had been Severus’s hand that killed him.

Grief and guilt warred within the Potions Master's heart. Battering his already tarnished soul and leaving nothing but a dull ache in its wake. Their plan had not ripped his soul apart, Dumbledore had been correct in that assumption, but it hadn’t left him unmarked. Killing the old man that night had been a mercy and that, at least, Severus could live with. It was the emptiness that was slowly killing him. With Dumbledore dead, he had no one left. He was alone. Something that at one time had been preferable, now weighed heavily upon his heart. Once again, no one wanted him.

Such sour thoughts had brought him to her grave. Unable to face the tangible evidence that his stupidity had truly brought her life to its close, he hadn't returned in years. Now standing over the headstone of his childhood best friend, Severus felt himself breaking. The end was near. If only he could hold on for a little while longer, maybe he would finally be able to atone for his biggest mistake.

As a younger man the epithet that Dumbledore had chosen had confused and angered Severus. Death had obviously not been defeated when its victims laid still beneath the dirt. Now he thought he perhaps understood the Headmaster's choice.

The Christian undertones of such a verse were apparent. Salvation through Christ allowed one to defeat death just like their savior. Death couldn't hold those who believed. It remained another great adventure. A trip into something new and unknown.

In such a philosophy, there was little fear associated with the term.

However, Severus wondered if the words perhaps held another meaning. Lily Evans would remain a part of him until the day he died. A little piece of her was locked tightly away in his heart and would remain there until his last breath. That sliver of Lily kept him on the straight and narrow, guiding him through the darkest of moments. It had shown him his errors so very long ago and today it showed him the man he wanted to be.

In that way she continued to live. Despite the ending of her life, Lily's memories persisted. Not only with him, but with others who had loved her as well. After all those who love us never truly leave us. As long as Severus and others held onto her memory, Lily Evans defeated death.

Melancholy filled him as he turned from the grave and made his way back to Hogwarts. Who would help him to defeat death?

He'd alienated everyone and murdered his only friend. When death finally deigned to come for him, Severus had no doubt that he would lose. And perhaps that was for the best. There wasn't much worth memorializing where he was concerned.

A thought of apparition took him back to the castle. Rubbing a hand across his face as he walked, Severus noted a few tears had escaped without his notice. Cursing his own emotions, the Potions Master scrubbed furiously at his eyes. Luckily there would be no one in the corridor this late in the evening to witness his weakness.

A not so silent curse spring from his lips as Severus realized just how wrong he'd been. Stalking into the Headmaster’s office, he saw that he would not be as alone as he’d hoped.

"I'm so glad you decided to provide the denizens of the castle with your attention Severus," Minerva simpered from her perch in front of his desk. "I know you may not have read the fine print while you were busy murdering your predecessor, but you are meant to protect the students here. That usually entails remaining on the grounds."

Severus's swift response came out in a frustrated sigh. "Minerva, I have neither the patience nor the inclination to deal with your ire this evening. So please do leave my office."

Minerva's eyes turned to him for the first time that evening, narrowed in sharp anger. "This is not your office. You may hold the position of Headmaster, but it is clear to all that it is nothing more than a title."

Normally he would bristle at such a comment, but tonight he couldn't muster the proper indignation. "I believe you know your way to the door," he said as he walked over to his desk, studiously ignoring the penetrating gaze of his most annoying portrait.

"I'm not leaving until..." Minerva trailed off as she got her first good look at him. A bit of the old familiarity struck across her expression as she noted that something was obviously wrong. "You look like hell Severus," she whispered with slightly less hostility.

"It's been a long day," replied Severus. "Please leave."

Minerva wasn't to be so easily dissuaded, but her tone held the slightest note of kindness now. "Not until I've said my piece."

"Then by all means say it and go."

"The Carrows are not suitable to be in charge of a single animal let alone hundreds of children. Your two henchmen are threatening to use Unforgivables on students who break the rules. Severus you must see that this is a problem."

The last had almost breeched into the territory of pleading. Despite his agreement with Minerva regarding the Carrows, Severus couldn't allow himself to be seen as lenient. Rolling his eyes and pulling on his trademark sneer he replied in kind. "Then perhaps students shouldn't break the rules."

"If the Carrows are to deem what is a rule and what is not, then students may not have a choice," she fired back, all traces of the former warmth evaporated.

"There is always a choice. We just have to ensure they make the right one. You've said your piece. Now leave."

Drawing herself to full height, Minerva fixed him with a hard glare. “I’ll leave because it’s late and a weekday, but don’t think for one moment that we’re done here.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Minerva,” he drawled, maintaining eye contact until his former friend walked out the door.

His head fell into his heads the moment she slammed the door shut. Regret lanced his heart every time he faced Minerva these days. They’d settled into something less than open hostility, but he didn’t think he’d ever become accustomed to the hatred she now exhibited towards him. She could hardly look at him without loathing and disgust clearly etched into the lines of her face. But then again, that described the entire staff, with only the Carrows and Filch as exceptions.

The year had barely begun, and already Severus longed for the peace that the end of this never ceasing war would bring.

***

_“Sev,” Lily’s voice rang out from beside him._

_The two had passed the last half hour laying back under the willow tree they’d dubbed as theirs, picking various shapes out of the clouds. As time passed their discoveries became sillier and had led to many conversations that made little sense to any but them._

_Believing that Lily must have decided on a new tangent for them, Severus’s chuckled. “Yeah, Lily.”_

_“This has been the best summer ever,” she said._

_Laying side by side in the grass with the only friend he’d ever had, Severus couldn’t help but agree. A tilt of his head allowed him a better view of the girl who’d so quickly become his world._

_“It has been pretty amazing,” he agreed. “But just think about next summer! We’ll know magic and we can meet out here to do homework and maybe we can go hang out with some of our new friends!”_

_Excitement thrummed through him at the prospect of Hogwarts and all that the castle offered. This summer had been the best of his life so far. He’d met his best friend and had spent nearly every day since hanging out with her, discussing everything from Hogwarts to the best muggle radio stations._

_This summer had been amazing. Severus could only imagine how great next summer would be, once they actually had some proper training under their belts. While his mind explored the possibilities, Lily’s seemed to have paused over something she deemed important._

_Big green eyes turned to him, full of anxiety and possibly even a little fear. Lily called his attention once more. “Severus,” she whispered._

_She’d used his full name, that meant that whatever troubled her about his previous statement was serious._

_“Yeah Lily?”_

_She bit her bottom lip almost as if she feared that voicing her fears would make them a reality. “We’ll still be friends at Hogwarts, right?”_

_That shocked Severus enough to compel him to sit up._

_“Of course we will be!” He borderline yelled. Gathering his wits a bit more firmly, Severus tried a more soothing tone. “Of course we’ll still be friends at Hogwarts Lily. You’re my best friend! And best friends don’t just leave each other.”_

_“But what if we’re in different houses?” Lily protested as she sat up to fully face him._

_If the way Lily bit her lip and her nervously fluttering hands were anything to go by, she’d obviously been worrying about this for quite some time and had given it a fair bit of thought. As her best friend it was his duty to reassure her and Severus took that duty exceedingly serious._

_Severus pulled her hand into his and locked his eyes on hers. “Then our housemates will just have to branch out a bit.”_

_Seeing that Lily still wasn’t convinced, Severus tried a different approach. A little twisting allowed him to stick out the pinky of the hand holding Lily’s. Swiftly he pried hers up and linked the two together._

_“I Severus Snape of Spinner’s End, the dodgiest part of Cokeworth, do here by solemnly swear to remain best friends with Lily Evans of the nicer part of Cokeworth. I swear to remain her friend through thick and thin, through other friends and stupid fights and anything else Hogwarts might throw at us. Even if we find ourselves in different houses, I swear to be her best friend until she’ll no longer have me. And even then, I’ll stick around to pester her like a good friend should. On pain of death I do hereby swear these things.”_

_Lily raised her eyebrows at him though the smile threatening to spill across her face dispelled any bite her coming sarcasm might have held. “That was quite the speech Sev.”_

_Not allowing his serious expression to falter for a moment Severus prodded her to continue. “It’s your turn Lily.”_

_“Oh okay,” she sighed, almost managing to make it sound exasperated. “I Lily Evans do hereby solemnly swear to remain Severus Snape’s best friend through thick and thin and all that other stuff he said earlier...”_

_Lily’s eyes screwed up with concentration as she tried to remember all that he’d sworn._

Even if we end up in different houses _. Severus mouthed with a wink._

_“…Even if we end up in different houses, I swear to be his best friend. Always and forever. On pain of death I do hereby swear these things.” Lily paused once again as she ran through it all in her head. “That covers everything right?”_

_Severus’s grin finally broke. “Sounded good to me! But now it’s a pinky swear. We can’t break that.”_

_“Pinky swears are rather serious.”_

_“I’m afraid you’re just stuck with me.”_

_“And you with me.”_

_“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”_

_“Thanks Sev,” Lily said with a dazzling smile. “You’re the best.”_

_The warmth that spread that through him left Severus feeling a bit lightheaded. At eleven years old and having only known her for a few short months, Severus knew that he loved Lily Evans with everything he had. Knew it as certainly as he knew his own name. The feeling seeped through flesh and bones and connected to his very soul. He’d do anything for the girl beside him, no matter what happened._

Severus woke on the lumpy couch he’d claimed for his bed with tears streaming down his face. Dreaming of Lily could almost certainly be linked back to his earlier visit to the graveyard. Regardless of the soul consuming guilt he felt at reliving such a memory, he couldn’t help but be thankful for it. At least in his dreams, Lily still lived. And more than that, she still believed in and loved him.

Given his current state of being despised from every side, he could at least find comfort in that. Her memory provided a much needed reminder of why he continued to fight every day. If he fought hard enough and they defeated the Dark Lord, perhaps he could save her son. Then maybe he’d finally earn her forgiveness for all that he’d done wrong. Perhaps he could even find strength in such a hopeful notion.

***

Minerva burst into the Headmaster’s office in a righteous fury, doing her absolute best to remain calm and collected. If her rather abrupt appearance startled Severus, he didn’t show it. Instead he leaned back against Dumbledore’s desk – she refused to think of it as anyone else’s – with crossed arms and his trademark sneer. The billowing black robes that he insisted upon wearing at all times only heightened his malicious appearance.

A beat passed in which she, once again, asked herself how she’d ever fallen for such an obvious ruse. The cold black eyes that watched her now had never truly held warmth or compassion, she’d only fooled herself into believing they had. However, fool that she was, currently Minerva hoped that she could appeal to that compassionate side she’d once believed in. If only for a moment.

"Neville Longbottom is being tortured on school grounds by those insidious beings you hired as teachers," Minerva hissed without any preamble, perhaps a hair harsher than she’d intended.

Well she needed to appeal to his compassionate side, not roll over and allow the Death Eaters free reign.

"And what exactly would you like me to do about that Minerva?" Severus asked, fixing her with a cold stare.

Just barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes, Minerva didn’t hesitate to respond. "Forbidding them from using Unforgivable curses on students would be start.”

"Perhaps if said students didn't break the rules, they wouldn't find themselves in such troublesome predicaments."

Despite the evil she knew him capable of, Severus’s dismissal of the student's suffering shocked her to the core. The man she’d known for so many years was capable of being a complete prick and an insufferable asshole, but he’d never allow a student to be harmed. Unless you counted the Potter’s participation in the Triwizard Tournament… or the time that Potter had been briefly suspected of being involved in harming Filch’s cat… or when Severus had aided Death Eaters in escaping the school full of children… or really anytime Harry or a non-Slytherin student had an issue at the school.

"You can't seriously stand by and allow this to happen," Minerva breathed into the silence that lingered between them.

"Longbottom has been a thorn in my side for far too many years. If he and those dunderheaded fools choose to rebel against my authority, then they will suffer the consequences of their actions. If you have an issue with discipline methods, then I suggest taking it up with those doling it out."

If looks could kill, she would have ended their Headmaster issue then and there. Never one to keep her opinion on such matters to herself, the head of Gryffindor visibly squared her shoulders and faced off against his authority.

"It may have escaped your attention,” she began, contempt lacing every word, “given the means by which you achieved this office, but you have a duty to this school and the students who attend it. That duty is to ensure their safety at all times and costs."

She’d reminded him of this time and time again and yet every time she mentioned his hand in murdering Dumbledore, there was always a moment in which something in Severus’s mask slipped. Something that dared to give her hope that she hadn’t been so completely duped.

Unfortunately those moments were usually short lived.

"In case you hadn't noticed,” Severus bit back, “there's a war going on. Unfortunately Wars have casualties. Usually those too foolish to know when to hold their tongues and when to fight go first. If the students don't learn that here, they'll never learn it elsewhere. Now unless you have any real concerns, take your leave."

In that moment Minerva could see nothing of the young man she’d become so very fond of over the years. She saw only the cold and murderous Death Eater who shared his skin. Moments such as these reminded her of just how fickle something like hope could be. Especially when applied to those who did not deserve it.

Pulling all of her hatred and grief into a single look, Minerva leveled him with a glare that would have made lesser men tremble. "There was a time I vouched for you Severus Snape. A time I considered you a friend. If only I'd known, then how foolish I was. You're every bit traitorous bastard they believed you to be."

With those words hanging heavily behind her, Minerva spun on her heel and stormed from the room. For the barest second, she imagined that she saw a grief similar to her own ghost through the former Potions Master’s features. But she’d determined that such things were impossible. Severus had never been her friend. He’d only ever been a snake in the shadows.

And for some reason, that revelation still hurt far more than it should.

\---

"There was a time I vouched for you Severus Snape. If only I'd known, then how foolish I was. You're every bit traitorous bastard they believed you to be."

With those final words Minerva stormed away, leaving an unknowable grief in her wake.

Hearing the gargoyle slide back into its protective place, Severus fell to the floor in front of the Headmaster's desk. He'd never been one to display emotions, but no one was watching, and it was all too much. Minerva would probably never know just how true her claims rang. He'd betrayed the only person who'd ever cared for him for power and he'd murdered his mentor for the greater good.

He’d broken her trust and any relationship that had formed between himself and Minerva with that act. At one time, Severus had been honored to call her his friend, but apparently not even that would survive this terrible war. Minerva had no clue just how fortunate she was to be spared such an abhorrent title these days. His friendship had only ever led to the deaths of those he entrusted the title to.

Burying his head in his hands, Severus wished for the end to this never ending war. But more importantly he wished for the end of the miserable existence he'd endured for far too long. Knowing that his chances of surviving this war were not likely had never frightened him, but on this night his hope for that quick ending did. Despite the chilling feeling such considerations left, he couldn’t help but hope that perhaps at the end he could finally find some sense of peace.


	12. Revelations, Reconciliations, and Kings Cross pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait everyone. This chapter kicked my butt on a daily basis and I’m still not certain that I’m okay with it. But at this point it’s now or never. I’ve also been entrenched in writing an original work that I’d love for you guys to check out (shameless plug that’s right!). It’ll be up on Wattpad soon.   
> We are nearing the end of this story and I’m not sure if I’m excited or sad yet. Time will tell I guess. Be ready for two more chapters, they will most likely be posted on the same day.  
> As always thanks for taking the time to read and please let me know what you guys think! See you guys in the next chapter!
> 
> Warning for a lot of angst and pain. Please don't be mad at poor Minnie, she's just as heartbroken as the rest of us!

Minerva McGonagall had reached her breaking point. The straw had broken the camels back and now she was pissed. She couldn’t believe how far the school had fallen. The beyond angry Head of Gryffindor stormed down the many long corridors to the Headmaster’s office with the full intention of telling him exactly what she thought about the newest means of discipline. Amycus Carrow followed closely at her heels still yelling some obscenity or another.

The Gargoyle didn’t even bother with asking for the password, it merely jumped out of her way at her first thought of the word. Taking the steps quickly, Minerva had to take a short moment to catch her breath – her old bones didn’t keep up quite as well as the used to – and to allow the insipid Carrow to catch up, before she barged into the Headmaster’s office without preamble.

“Severus Snape,” she barked as she approached the large desk in the middle of the room, “you had better put a stop to this madness at once or so help me I will make certain to do it myself.”

The wide eyed Headmaster had the audacity to look frightened for the barest of moments before settling back behind his usual mask of indifference. But in that one moment, Minerva saw the young man she’d once been so fond of a for half a second she dared to hope.

“Minerva,” Severus greeted his voice as cold as his manner. “To what do I owe the pleasure of yet another of your lectures?”

It took several deep breaths before Minerva felt confident in her ability to not hex the headmaster to oblivion. Her fury slightly tempered, the Head of Gryffindor squared her shoulders and prepared for battle.

“And here I thought you’d be delighted to hear that I’m not here to berate you,” she snarled.

The corner of Severus’s mouth twitched ever so slightly. “Oh happy day. I can’t wait to hear what else you might have to complain about.”

Despite her anger, Minerva couldn’t help but find a small amount of joy in the battle of wills with her one time partner in crime. She’d missed their banter. Pulling herself from such morose – and completely pointless – reminisces, Minerva dove head first into her tirade.

“I’ve just walked in on this vile creature,” she pointed to Amycus, “having other students use the Cruciatus curse on those meant to have detentions. Some of the students were first years!”

“Aye, and rotten little brats they were to earn such a punishment,” Amycus spat interjecting himself where he most certainly was not wanted.

Minerva turned her full fury on the Death Eater. “No one deserves that type of punishment.”

Amycus waisted no time in getting right in her face. Minerva stood tall refusing to back down from the Dark Lord’s toady. “Well lucky us that I’m in charge of discipline and not you,” Amycus growled. “Wouldn’t want someone without the proper stomach in such a position.”

“Yes, because children so often require torture to make them see sense,” said Minerva in the most condescending tone she could manage. “Let’s not pretend that this is anything other than an excuse for you and your sister to appease your own perverse pleasure.”

“Minerva,” Severus snapped in warning.

However, his caution came too late. Amycus’s beady eyes narrowed into slits as he leaned in until their noses virtually touched. “If you’re tryin’ to imply that I’m unfit for my position-”

“I’m not implying anything,” Minerva cut in, “I’m saying it rather explicitly.”

Amycus’s wand came up a split second before Minerva’s. The two stood impossibly close with the threat of danger looming between the centimeters that separated the them.

“You’d better watch yourself,” Amycus said his voice low and accent thick with anger. “Dumbledore’s not here to protect you lot anymore. No one’s gonna question it if one over hyped professor suddenly goes missin. Though I might take you for my own to save you from something worse.”

Amycus’s threat sparked something within Minerva that had been simmering under the surface for months. Now she had a proper target.

“My disappearing won’t change the fact that you’re an abhorrent excuse of a professor nor the fact that your despicable ideology has twisted you and your sister into something subhuman and as such unworthy of my breath or time. In fact the only reason either of you merit any consideration is because you so love lording over the students who are powerless to stop you. Which, in my not so humble opinion, makes you the worst sort of person, if you could even be called such. And quite frankly, I’d rather be dead and forgotten than lashed to you.”

A stunned silence rumbled through the room leaving the trio too shocked to continue for several long minutes. Though she’d surprised herself by actually saying the words, Minerva could regret her actions thus far. However, the tight pull of Severus’s face and the growing redness of Amycus suggested that she might have done better to keep her thoughts to herself.

Amycus made the first move. The man was a short stout little thing, but his anger granted him a few extra inches. “Why you jumped up little bitch,” he snarled, jabbing his wand into her chest.

Before Minerva or Amycus could get any further they were interrupted by a silky voice coming from the Headmaster’s desk. “Back away from her Carrow.”

Severus stalked around the desk to face them his wand pointed steadily at Amycus. There was no waver or hesitation in his stance and his dark eyes were filled with something Minerva though might be disgust.

“You takin her side?” Amycus barked.

“I'm taking the side of decency,” Severus replied calmly. “Now back away.”

“What you sidin’ with the old woman for? Claiming her for your own and such?”

Severus didn't answer, but his face tightened in disgust. The silent flick of his wrist which sent Amycus flying across the room seemed answer enough. The man hit the wall with a resounding thud and spilled into pile of twisted limbs onto the floor. While Amycus attempted to disentangle himself from his robes, Minerva noticed Severus wearing the barest hint of smirk.

“You bastard,” Amycus spluttered. His face was an impressive shade of red and dark hair had fallen into his eyes. “The Dark Lord’ll be hearin’ about this.”

Severus didn’t flinch. “Yes I shudder to think what your eloquent tongue will twist into a grievance this time.”

“You mockin me, Snape?”

“Glad to see there is something filling your head other than hot air,” Severus quipped. “I was worried I hadn’t been obvious enough for you to pick up on it.”

Amycus glared at the Headmaster, his wand leveled at the other man’s chest. In direct contrast to the huffing and raging Carrow, Severus looked calm and collected as if they stood around chatting about the weather. 

“The Dark Lord can't protect you forever,” said Amycus, “and when you lose his favor, I'll be the first in line to watch you suffer.”

“Thank you for proving once again how wise it was for our Lord to put me in this position rather than ilk like you and your insipid sister.”

Amycus raised his wand, looking down its length as he pointed it at Severus. “Watch your back Snape cause sure as shit no one else will.”

“Thank you for the kind warning allow me to provide you with one in turn. If you so much as shoot a funny look at Minerva or any other member of my staff, then it will be my pleasure to remind you just how I made my way into the Dark Lords ranks. Are we clear?”

Amycus remained silent as he and Severus stared each other down. Too shocked to do anything other than stand and watch, Minerva held her breath waiting to see how this power play would end. She held no specific hopes for a winner, both were Death Eaters and Severus’s treachery only outweighed Carrow’s loathsome behavior by a hairsbreadth. Though she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that she hoped Severus received no negative repercussions for his actions in her defense this evening.

“I didn’t quite hear you Amycus,” Severus repeated his order in a hiss, “Are. We. Clear?”

“Crystal,” Amycus growled before stomping out of the office, leaving Severus alone with Minerva.

Severus lowered his defenses slowly as he watched Carrow leave. For a moment, his walls seemed to collapse allowing the man she once knew to peak out from behind them. Minerva honestly had no appropriate reaction for this moment. She’d spent much of the time since Dumbledore’s death building her hatred towards Severus Snape, the man who’d tricked her into believing they could be friends. Minerva had convinced herself that everything about Severus had been an act and yet, here they stood.

He’d just defended her against one of the agents he was meant to be working with. One of his fellow servants of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Severus had taken her side without hesitation and had belittled and threatened his apparent brother in arms, in a manner that would almost certainly see repercussions.

And yet…he’d killed Dumbledore. Had betrayed them all. Minerva spared a moment to glance up at her mentor’s portrait to find the old headmaster snoring in his frame. Whether real or feigned it mattered not, Dumbledore couldn’t help them now.

Noting her gaze, Severus’s moment passed as his well crafted walls slammed back into place. The cold sneer he turned upon her shredded any doubts she might have felt up to this point.

“Let me know if he troubles you any further,” Severus ordered in cold clipped tones. “But do try to stay out of his way.”

That brought Minerva’s anger back to the boiling point. “As long as he insists upon torturing my students, I’ll do no such thing.”

“As I’ve already told you, the students need to know when to keep their silence.”

“They’re standing up for what they believe in.”

“Then they’ll continue to be persecuted by the Carrows. Unfortunately for the many teenage heroes who believe themselves to be fighting a righteous fight, this isn’t the real world. If it was, most of them would be dead already. So please find it in yourself to stop encouraging them.”

“I’m not encouraging them!” Minerva shouted loud enough to draw the slightest flinch from her steely companion.

Severus recovered quickly. “Yes you are. Every time you shout down the Carrows or coming storming into my office in the middle of the night you encourage them. When you tell them to stay strong or when you circumvent their punishments. Everything you do, encourages them Minerva. By virtue of being yourself, you encourage them. How am I supposed to keep them safe while you-”

Severus’s words trailed off as if he realized he’d said too much. And perhaps he had. Up until this moment, she certainly hadn’t seen any evidence of him protecting students or trying to keep them safe. But what if…? No, those kinds of thoughts were folly. They’d gotten them into this mess in the first place.

“Are you asking me to leave the school?” Minerva asked instead of giving voice to her many doubts.

“Of course not,” he huffed. “Just…I need for you to stop questioning every little thing. You’re making things difficult. If you could manage to stop being a thorn in my side for more than two minutes, I’d appreciate it greatly.”

Her doubts were squelched, Severus cared only about his own skin and how much trouble he’d be in with his master. Tossing her own sneer in place she met his frustration with her own.

“Yes, I’d hate to make things difficult on the man who betrayed us. Good evening, Severus.”

Unable to stand the sight of him any longer, she turned on her heel in disgust and left the Headmaster to his own devices. He could face the Dark Lord’s ire in this, Minerva no longer felt any guilt in association with that.

***

Severus had come here in hopes of some cathartic release of guilt and grief, but as he rounded the stairs at the top of the Astronomy Tower he began to wonder if he just had some masochistic tendencies. No tears welled in his eyes, no powerful emotion swept him off his feet, and grief didn’t bend him to its will. Instead he only felt the now permanent ache in his chest spread deeper than before. As if his very soul bore the weight of his guilt.

He’d avoided the tower like the plague for his first several months back at Hogwarts. Severus knew he’d been a coward about the whole thing, but he simply couldn’t face the place. Much like Lily’s grave, the tower made everything terribly real. His hand had been instrumental to deaths of the only two people in the world that he loved and loved him in return. Others he’d loved had either hated him or used him for their own gains, they’d never truly felt anything for him in return or they’d lost that feeling at some point. Lily and Dumbledore had been the exceptions. And he’d killed them both.

Now grief took him.

Silent tears that he’d refused to allow until now brimmed to the surface as his thoughts turned to his mentor. Had Dumbledore realized just how difficult a task he’d set before him? Had the old man realized just how little Severus would have to work with? Severus felt as if he’d placed his blind trust in the man only to receive half truths and bare hints in return. Did Dumbledore ever truly care for him or had he just been another of the old man’s tools? He could ask the former headmaster’s portrait, but then Severus wasn’t entirely certain he could trust him.

Dumbledore had been adamant that no one else know about their plans, he’d been insistent that Severus had to take this path alone. Otherwise, their plot, Hogwarts, and the Order could all be compromised. But that plan had left Severus to walk through the darkness completely alone. With no one to offer kind encouragement or the promise of something better.

He’d long become accustomed to almost universal hatred. The students had never held much love for him, and the staff of Hogwarts had always mistrusted him with two exceptions. However, those two exceptions had bolstered his purpose and drive. Lily had provided the ammunition and Minerva and Dumbledore’s support had always stoked the flame. But now…

He just wanted peace. He’d fought for so long-

Severus’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. A quick swipe of his eyes removed all evidence of his moment of weakness. And a deep breath ensured that his mask was well in place for whomever decided midnight was the appropriate time to wander the castle. 

He turned to face the intruder an only barely covered his sigh as he recognized the tight bun and sensible evening gown that marked Minerva’s appearance. Severus didn’t know if he could handle yet another round with the stubborn head of his least favorite house. And yet he had just been yearning for company and Minerva had once been one of the few people who could stand him, who might even have considered him a friend.

“Seems as if insomnia is running rampant through the castle,” Severus said, breaking the silence and startling Minerva.

“Severus, you startled me,” she breathed before her face turned hard. “What are you doing here?”

Of course she would take offense to his presence here. Anyone not serving the Dark Lord would.

“Patrolling the castle,” he answered keeping his dark eyes locked on hers so as not to betray his lie. He’d become far to adept at the practice to stumble over something as simple as this.

“The Headmaster isn’t required to patrol the castle,” she pointed out. “Surely you have more important duties to attend to.”

“Isn’t it you that’s always harping on about my first duty being to the students and their safety? Am I not protecting the school by patrolling its corridors?”

“Not here.” Minerva took several steps forward until she was far too close to him. “You’ve already proven that this is a point of weakness and the castle has been fortified in this spot and others related to the heinous events that took place at the end of last year. You might’ve known that if you weren’t a traitorous bastard.”

Such language from Minerva cut him deeper than any knife could have. Nothing could have made it plainer that they weren’t friends any longer. She, like the rest of the world, had tried and condemned him and found him almost as bad as the Dark Lord himself.

Realization struck Severus like a train. There would be no ending to this for him, not a happy one at any rate. Even if he somehow managed to survive Voldemort’s reign, he’d face Azkaban for his crimes. And he wasn’t certain he could stand the stench of that place ever again.

Allowing none of his inner crisis to slip through the cracks of his manufactured mask, Severus decided to end this argument before it could ever begin. “I was just leaving. Good evening Minerva.”

Unable to face her for another moment, he made his escape, leaving Minerva to her own devices. If given the choice, he’d face the Dark Lord’s ire any day over that of Minerva McGonagall.

***

It astounded the Headmaster that Harry Potter could still cause him headaches without even entering the bloody castle grounds. To absolutely no one’s surprise, the menace of a teenager had landed himself in trouble once again. Only this time the fool and his friends had broken into the Ministry of Magic. What they’d hoped to find there, Severus couldn’t fathom, but at least the trio of terror had survived the encounter.

On some level, though he’d never admit it to anyone let alone himself, Severus knew he was proud that the brash Gryffindors had escaped from such a perilous journey. They’d had to have been lucky beyond measure, but Severus also knew that those three had a tendency to be resourceful when in a pinch. To sneak into the Ministry of Magic while it was under the control of the Dark Lord himself… well Potter always had been cheeky.

However, Severus’s minor sense of goodwill towards the boy wonder lasted about as long as it took for the gossip to begin spreading through the halls of Hogwarts. Which is to say, not very long at all. The denizens of the great castle had outdone themselves this time around. Students and teachers alike could be found discussing the event at length and in detail mere hours after it occurred. And the retellings seemed, for the most part, accurate. Severus couldn’t imagine how they’d gotten the news so quickly, but it had become his reluctant responsibility to put an end to said gossip.

Unfortunately, his efforts towards extinguishing the chatter only added fuel to its fire. Students sent anonymous howlers to the Great Hall and throughout the corridors which shouted the news at regular intervals throughout the day.

Worst of all, Potter’s actions had brazened those rebellious students who had revitalized Dumbledore’s Army with the specific goal of making his life hell. Severus could barely walk down the halls these days without being assaulted by an offensive banner, graffiti on the walls, howlers and other enchanted objects which screamed about Potter’s greatness as they followed him for hours, and a large assortment of other annoyances. It had become a rare day that Severus found himself without a pounding headache as he dealt with the obnoxious student body.

When he’d taken this position, he’d expected a good deal of push back from Hogwarts’s staff. He had prepared for everything from petty attempts at passive aggressiveness to outright hostility. He had not, however, expected for the professors to encourage the students in their rebellious actions. Severus cursed himself a fool, but he had believed that his fellow professors would want to keep the students away from the dangerous hands of the Carrows – especially after seeing what the duo was capable of. And on big things they did, but they didn’t seem to begrudge the small petty things like uncontrolled gossip and the various insulting actions perpetrated by said enchanted objects.

The week after the break in of the Ministry could be labeled as one of the worst of Severus’s life. He dealt with not only gossiping, rebellious teens, but he also had to handle the gossiping of the staff. The Dark Lord wanted all mentions of this failure to be punished swiftly, he wouldn’t stand for open rebellion within the school. Which meant that Severus had to release the Carrows on the student body while he did his best to corral the staff.

After almost two weeks of never ending hell, Severus had just about decided that he could take it no longer. He’d been given a proper dressing down by Minerva when he confronted her, Filius, and Pomona in the staff room about discussing the events at the Ministry, then he’d been compared to Umbridge – a comparison which truly insulted him – by Sinistra, he’d almost come to blows with Hagrid after the half-giant had overindulged one evening, and on top of his staff problems he maintained a constant stream of abuse from the students. But then Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, and Luna Lovegood had broken into his office and attempted to steal the sword of Gryffindor.

Admirable though their actions might seem, they reeked of Gryffindor recklessness. The trio and by extension the Dark Lord had no idea that the sword they held was a fake and yet, they’d still attempted to pull one over on the headmaster. Severus found himself between the ultimate rock and hard place with absolutely nowhere to turn. He had to punish the imbeciles, but if he turned them over to the Carrows then they might survive but they’d never be the same.

The Dark Lord would allow the two professors to do as they pleased to the students and despite the temptation to be rid of the three ring leaders of Dumbledore’s resurrected Army, Severus couldn’t allow that to happen. So he’d sent them off into the forest with Hagrid hoping that the Dark Lord wouldn’t fault him for leniency. 

His actions towards the trio had immensely pleased Dumbledore’s portrait and Severus found himself in desperate need of an escape. Which is how he found himself sitting in the staff room late on a Friday night, glaring at anyone who so much as dared to whisper too loud.

\---

Minerva couldn’t quite believe her eyes as she walked into the staff room Friday evening and saw none other than Severus Snape sitting in a spot that she so frequently accompanied him. Slumped in his seat and nursing a glass of what appeared to be fine scotch, he looked as if he’d been waiting for her. The sight provoked fond memories of so many nights just like this one. Where she’d find her most somber friend waiting for her company and conversation. Nights that had gotten them both through some of the most trying times.

And as had become custom since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s return, Severus looked like hell warmed over. To be fair, it had been a trying two weeks for him. Potter’s break in at the Ministry had set the school abuzz with gossip and had sprung hope into a sea of students searching for just that. She’d done what she could to stem the tide of student misbehavior – not as much as she’d have done for Dumbledore or any other headmaster – but she had to admit that she hadn’t seen much success.

Severus had set the Carrows on the student body and had tackled the staff himself. Apparently, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wasn’t exactly happy about Potter’s antics. As soon as Severus had turned his attention to the staff though, the staff had begun pushing back against him. Perhaps Severus had deserved a quiet Friday evening of drinking.

Minerva had just decided to leave him to his devices when she saw him draw a long fingered hand across his tired face. She wondered if Severus had received so much as a kind word from any of the staff since taking his position as headmaster. She couldn’t blame anyone for not doing so but knowing that his relationship with the Carrows was tumultuous at best, Minerva couldn’t help but wonder if he had anyone to talk to. 

In this moment he looked so like the lost young man she’d found in this very spot all those years ago. Cursing her traitorous heart for being ridiculous, Minerva knew she couldn’t simply walk away.

“I hear that three of my Gryffindors will be spending this evening in the Forbidden Forest,” she began as she sank into the seat she’d come to consider as hers.

Severus sighed and drained his glass in one gulp. “Bloody hell Minerva, will you give it a rest for just one evening.”

He’d obviously been indulging then.

Minerva held up her hands placatingly. “I’m not here to gripe at you.”

Black eyes met hers even as he cocked an eyebrow in her direction. “I don’t believe a word of that.”

“I’m not always predictable you know,” she huffed. “I do occasionally like to throw people for a loop.”

“Feel free to prove me wrong then.”

An awkward silence that hadn’t existed between them for many years settled around them. Minerva regretted her decision already.

“What are you drinking,” she asked just for something to say.

Severus gripped the bottle by the neck and turned the label towards her. She’d been right, it was a fine scotch.

A flick of her wrist produced a glass of her own. “Well be a good lad and pour us a glass then.”

Severus’s gaze went from blurry to calculating in the blink of an eye. “Sure I haven’t poisoned it?” he sneered.

“You’d be a fool to waste such good liquor and I’ve never considered you a fool.”

For some reason her reasoning seemed to be acceptable. With a twitch of his lips, he poured her a hearty glass.

“That’s good scotch,” Minerva observed after several sips.

“Would you expect anything less? I’ve never known you to mooch bad liquor off me.”

“You so rarely bring anything subpar, I’m rather accustomed to your finer tastes.”

“Glad to know I haven’t disappointed you in that at least.”

For some reason, his words seemed to hurt him just as much as they stung Minerva. Severus’s brows drew together as he searched the bottom of his glass for whatever answers he sought.

“I am sorry to have disappointed you Minerva,” he said so quietly she almost missed it.

“I’m sorry you did as well,” she whispered back.

Earnest black eyes sought hers and time seemed to still as the two old companions shared the misery of what they’d lost. Then Severus’s eyes hardened as he realized what he’d said. And just like that the quite moment of peace between them ended.

Severus walked away leaving her with an empty glass, an expensive bottle of scotch, and a good deal of confusion.

***

He’d spent the better part of the evening searching the forest for Potter and his friends. This was their chance he couldn’t muck it up. Yet finding the brats had proven more difficult than he’d ever imagined. He’d sent spell after spell into the unyielding trees attempting to locate them all to no avail.

Severus topped a hill that overlooked the vast forest and lost his breath at the sheer beauty of it all. The soft falling snow had coated the land in a blanket of white that perfectly contrasted the dark forbidding woods. The still night seemed such a peaceful place. He knew that he could easily lose himself in the Forest of Dean and happily never find himself.

For several minutes Severus contemplated the possibility of simply staying here and not returning. He could do it. Walk away and never return. Leave the rest of the world to their devices and finally achieve some sense of peace for himself. It was a temptation unlike anything he’d ever known. Gnawing at him, begging him to stay and leave everything else behind. To start over.

But could he ever truly rest in such a life? Could he simply leave the Wizarding world to its fate?

He knew the answer before the question had fully formed in his mind. He couldn’t do it. He’d helped start this fire and he had a duty to help end put it out. He owed it to every person the Dark Lord had ever hurt, he owed it to Dumbledore, owed it to Lily Potter, and he owed it to himself. Severus needed to know that his decision to turn on the Dark Lord had been worth it. That Lily’s death wouldn’t be pointless and that his life of living as a double agent wouldn’t be wasted.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Severus realized that he had a way to find Potter and his friends. Like magic would call to like magic.

Thinking of bright green eyes and childhood laughter he whispered. “ _Expecto Patronum_.”

The silver doe burst from the tip of his wand, shining brilliantly against the black night. Warmth filled his chest at the sight of her, his beacon in the darkness. Severus stretched out a hand allowing the patronus to nuzzle if affectionately.

“Find him for me.”

The doe pranced away staying just in his line of sight and leading him down the path fate had laid out for him. 

***

It was late by the time Severus returned to the school. Trembling and aching from his discussion with the Dark Lord, he fumbled his way down the many long corridors leading to his new office. Not for the first time, he cursed the location of his new living arrangements. The dungeons may have been dreary and cold, but at least they'd been closer to the Entrance Hall.

A fact he sorely missed on nights such as these.

After facing the Dark Lord’s fury all he wanted to do was have a large drink and fall into bed. Unfortunately, it seemed that fate had other ideas.

Soft footsteps ahead of him alerted Severus to the presence of another. Praying that it wasn't one of the numerous rebellious students so determined to bring him grief, the new Headmaster drew himself to full height and pulled his prickly personality over himself like a shield.

Thankfully it wasn't a student. Instead, Minerva stepped around the corner, halting her patrol as she saw him. Almost unconsciously, Severus relaxed before remembering that he shouldn't. However the damage had already been done.

A hint of old warmth passed over Minerva's countenance as she took in the battered appearance of her old friend. "Severus," she mumbled in a worried voice that almost broke his resolve. She took a step closer causing him to tense and reality to reassert itself. The prior warmth of the moment was doused as reminders of betrayal resurfaced.

Minerva recovered first. "I'm pleased to see that Hogwarts has merited your actual attendance this evening. Though I assume from your robes that we've not been so fortunate for the entirety of the night."

Her words and clipped tone brought Severus back to himself. "My responsibilities do extend beyond these walls Minerva. You of all people surely know that after serving so many years as Dumbledore's deputy."

"The business which drew Dumbledore away usually pertained to the school itself," she growled.

It was good to know that he could still bring by out the worst in his colleague. Carefully crossing his arms, Severus fixed his best sneer upon his face. "Yes that is generally the Headmasters job."

"And here I thought you wouldn't have received a manual on such things, given the manner in which you obtained your position."

Sparring verbally with Minerva, it seemed, would always be a favorite pastime of his. "No instructions were necessary. I find that a minuscule amount of common sense is all it truly takes."

"So you're claiming it was Hogwarts business that took you away for the evening. Are you certain it wasn't a clandestine meeting with your master?"

“Surely you of all people know that those two things go hand in hand?" Severus leaned his weight casually to the side which wasn’t currently seeping blood. He managed to contain a small hiss but knew that he didn’t fully hide his wince.

Luckily, Minerva seemed to either not notice or not care. “Unfortunate as that may be. Mixing politics and school I mean.”

“Of course.”

“And what,” she asked sharply, “was so important that you had to rush off middle of the night?”

Perhaps it was his aching body and addled mind, but Severus no longer saw the harm in keeping this information from her. Minerva would find out soon enough anyway, might as well tell her his version of events now. “If you really must know,” he snapped, “a house elf issue had to be addressed.”

Minerva blinked in surprise. “A house elf drew you away in the middle of the night?”

“It was,” Severus said slowly, dragging his words as he thought carefully of how to phrase the incident, “a rather serious infraction of one our kitchen elves.”

“Well I hope that the matter is handled and said creature has been returned duly punished.”

Minerva certainly didn’t miss his wince this time.

“Said creature is dead.”

Mouth agape, Minerva’s eyes narrowed in disgust. “What crime could warrant such a sentence for a house elf?” she nearly shouted.

Severus shifted his weight once more, moving to lean against the wall for support. “It helped Potter escape from Dark Lord’s clutches. Thus betraying both it's station and duties.”

He’d never before seen such hatred etched across Minerva’s face and he hoped to never see such a look again. “Yes,” she hissed, “and traitors must be dealt with harshly.”

Her words condemned him as surely as the Dark Lord had. Severus couldn’t help his quiet response. “As well as those who allow such actions to occur.”

He didn’t know if he hoped for some kind word or comfort from his old friend, but whatever he’d hoped for he found himself greatly disappointed.

“Punishment just deserved then,” she observed harshly. “Good evening Severus and do try not to bleed all over the floor. Argus will have a fit and we wouldn't want any more trouble for you, now would we?”

***

Severus made it to his office before collapsing. His body ached in sheer agony, but he was quite certain it would be the heartache that killed him. _Punishment just deserved_. Minerva’s words reverberated through his head over and over. Playing on repeat and torturing him in a way the Dark Lord could only wish for.

He’d fallen so very far. And the worst part was that Minerva had been right. He did deserve this. After everything he’d done, how could he not deserve this.

Tears that he’d tried to contain for an entire semester welled in his eyes and with no one around to view his breakdown, he allowed them to flow. Heart wrenching sobs pushed past his lips, leaving him without breath.

He simply couldn’t do this any longer. He’d bent so far and now all that was left of him lay shattered in pieces before him. Severus’s cries reverberated off the walls of the Headmaster’s office and no one heard them but him.

Or so he thought.

“Severus,” a pleasant old voice called to him across the room.

_Damn it, not as alone as I thought._

“Severus,” Dumbledore’s portrait called again. “What’s happened?”

Pulling himself together with a strength he didn’t know he still possessed, Severus sat up and brushed his sorrow away, burying deep within himself.

“Potter, Granger, and Weasley were captured by the Malfoys,” he reported as he pulled himself to his feet. “They had the help of one of our house elves, Dobby I believe was his name, and they managed to escape.”

“And Dobby?” Dumbledore asked.

Severus just shook his head.

“What’s wrong then Severus?”

He couldn’t reply. Couldn’t find the words to explain how deeply Minerva’s words had cut him or how desperately he longed for an end. Piercing blue eyes that somehow still managed to peer into his soul, held Severus in place. Begging him for an explanation.

“Bad day, Albus,” Severus finally answered. “Nothing more.”

Dumbledore sighed softly as he took in the state of his charge. “That’s quite the bad day.”

Severus shifted. “Yes well, they tend to be in abundance when one sells their soul to a maniac who wants to destroy half the world.”

He’d meant it as a quip but somehow his words only sounded broken.

Dumbledore remained quiet as he studied Severus. The painting seemed to weigh its words carefully before speaking. “You know I find that it’s our bad days which truly shape us. It’s a simple matter to find optimism and hope on a good day, it’s easy to see the world as a decent place when everything is going right. But it’s much more difficult to find such things in darker moments. When everything is against us and it seems best to just give up. Finding strength to carry on in those moments is what defines us. Hope and happiness can be found even in the darkness, it’s just more difficult to spot.”

“Do you ever speak in anything other than parables or riddles?”

Dumbledore chuckled softly. “When one reaches my age, they know little else. Whatever happened this evening,” Dumbledore’s tone turned serious, “it’s paramount that you know it’s not what you deserve. You’ve done more for the light than many will ever understand or know, and Hogwarts has itself a fine Headmaster.”

Of course Albus had seen his way straight to the heart of the matter. He’d always been able to read Severus’s moods.

“Albus-” he began to argue.

“No, Severus,” the painting interrupted, “you have to understand that and move past it. You’ve come so far from the boy I once knew, and I couldn’t be more proud. Happiness will find you my boy, you just have to be patient and weather the storm.”

“What if I’m tired of weathering it?”

“Then you count yourself among good company. But that’s no reason to stop fighting.”

Somehow Dumbledore’s words seemed to lighten the weight he carried if only for a moment. It might not last, but for this evening Severus felt as if he might be able to sleep. As he made his departure, Severus knew his fight had not reached its end this night. Peace would find him soon enough and until then he’d face each obstacle to the best of his ability. 


	13. Revelations, Reconciliations, and Kings Cross pt 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is awkward… because it’s not the end like I promised. This year has just gotten out of hand and I had to split it somewhere! So, yay for you guys because more content. This book has taken me forever to write and I’m sorry, but it’s so freaking hard to kill Sev. I’m only prolonging the inevitable but I just can’t help myself. Hopefully we will have a finished story by the end of this month. Thanks for reading and please, please, please (aint to proud to beg) let me know what you think! As always, I’ll see you guys in the next chapter. Side note, if things seem a bit out of order, it's because the first few scenes were originally deleted scenes from last chapter. So one day they will be fixed, but for now please forgive me that.
> 
> P.S. Tissues and/or handkerchiefs are in the box to the left and the crying corner is over to the right, please feel free to utilize these accommodations.

"Headmaster we have a problem," the voice of Dilys Derwent called out.

Severus's head immediately snapped up from the papers he'd been looking over. "What's wrong?"

"There's a young man whose just been caught releasing a few first year students the Carrows had chained up," the portrait said. "They've caught him red handed and are doling out his punishment as we speak."

"Please for the love of all that is good tell me it isn't Longbottom."

"No sir I believe the boy's name is Corner."

Severus swore loudly enough to receive rebukes from several portraits which he, as usual, ignored. Michael Corner was a Ravenclaw seventh year with a penchant for giving Severus headaches. He suspected the boy to be one of the many members of Longbottom's resurrected _Dumbledore's Army_.

"Where are they?" Severus asked.

"In the dungeons near your old quarters."

"Alert Poppy immediately," he ordered. "But do not tell her, or anyone else, that you spoke to me about this incident."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you Dilys."

"Of course Headmaster."

Severus was on his feet and out the door before she finished her sentence. His trademark black robes billowed behind him as he ran down the corridors. Onlookers would have thought his resemblance to a bat uncanny as he cut through several shortcuts flying as fast as he could down to the dungeons.

 _At least it's not one of Minerva's brood this time_ , Severus thought to himself. Perhaps the one bright spot to this entire evening.

Severus could hear the boy's screams from three corridors away. Slowing before he reached the entrance, Severus collected himself and caught his breath. It wouldn't do for the Carrows or the students to believe he actually cared. When he felt composed enough to put on a show, Severus stepped through the door.

The scene before him, caused his stomach to flip and threaten to spill its contents. Corner lay on the floor in an ever growing pool of blood writhing in pain under Alecto's wand. The boy has obviously been under the curse for a while, because his voice was hoarse, and his screams sounded weaker than they should have. The fact that Severus could pick up on such things curled his stomach further.

"What, might I ask, is the meaning of all this?" He asked. Though he'd spoken in his normal quite, clipped tones, the attention of both Carrows swung to him in an instant ending the Cruciatus being used on a student. Corner's screams died down to prolonged whimpers.

Alecto recovered from the shock of seeing the Headmaster so late at night first.

"This boy had the nerve to release students from their detentions. I'm teachin him why that's a bad idea."

"And were you planning on killing the boy or driving him to insanity?" Severus asked. Neither of the siblings had an answer. "I see," he continued before either could make any attempts at being clever. "Perhaps you ought to use the brains that I know must exist inside those heads of yours every now and then."

"He's being punished!" Amycus interjected. "It's what the jumped up lil half blood deserves."

"That may be, but if you hurt him badly enough that he's sent to St. Mungos then there's no stopping the board, Ministry, and parents from throwing a fit and having you chucked out."

"The Dark Lord won't have that," Alecto said.

"He might not have choice. Killing a student gives the Order the ammunition they need to wage an attack against leadership at the school. It's enough to incite a rebellion in every circle."

"There's no rebelling against him," Amycus responded venomously. "Politics don't matter anymore."

"Politics do matter and always will. Keeping the wizarding world under his thumb comes with enough challenges on its own. No need for you two to go making it any more difficult. Though if you do have some grievance -that means a problem- with such logic then I urge you to take this matter to the Dark Lord himself. He'll most likely rid me of the constant problems you two incur. Now release the boy and go tend to some other part of the castle."

Before either could reply Poppy Pomfrey burst into the room. Her eyes widen upon seeing one of her students lying in a pool of blood. Those eyes immediately turn a burning glare onto Severus as her face darkened in fury.

"What is the meaning of this?" she snapped.

Ignoring her, Severus turned to the Carrows. "I do believe I instructed you to leave. Now," he added forcefully when it looked as if the siblings would protest.

The Carrows left on a huff allowing Severus to turn his attention back to Poppy. Relief swelled through his veins at the sight of the school nurse.

"Poppy," he began but the palm of her hand meeting his left cheek cut him off.

All other thought flew from his mind as he processed what had just happened. He'd been hit enough times for a simple slap for on an elderly woman -surprisingly powerful though it had been - to cause little pain. But that didn't explain the ache he felt spreading across his chest.

Her words only added to the pain. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself Severus. Allowing this type of thing to occur under your watch. I assure you that Albus is rolling in his grave as we speak. Not that you care."

Severus did his best to ignore her voice regardless of how her words seemed to flay him open.

"The boy had been subjected to a prolonged Cruiciatus curse," he said. "You'll need to check for potential nerve damage." Somehow he'd managed to keep his voice steady and cold.

"Prolonged... You're a bastard and a coward. I've been waiting for months to say that to your face."

Severus bristled. "I'm no coward-"

"Yes of course, torturing students shows great bravery."

"I didn't torture him!"

"No, you allowed others to do it for you," said Poppy, "Never been one to dirty your hands when you could avoid it could you Severus. That's what makes you a coward. And you of all people should have some compassion towards children being harmed by those more powerful than themselves."

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. If Poppy noticed, it didn't deter her for a second.

"Me of all people," Severus repeated slowly. "I'm certain I have no idea to what you're referring."

Poppy leveled him with a glare she generally reserved for those trying to leave the Hospital Wing before she allowed it. "I'm certain you do. I was around for your school years. Patched you up more times than I care to remember. I seem to recall holidays being rather unfortunate for

you. You would do well to remember those days, I think."

"And you would do well to remember your place at this school. Mostly notably out of my affairs."

With that he left the woman to tend to her charge. Feeling as if a knife had been plunged deep into his chest, Severus made the long trek back to his new rooms. Halfway out of the dungeons, he can across his old quarters and office. They hadn't been touched since his departure and he'd purposefully sealed them against any possible intruders.

Suddenly he desperately needed to pretend that the last few hours - last year really - had never happened. He needed to lose himself in the familiar. To pretend, even for just a moment, that everything was back to normal. That Albus still lived and the Dark Lord remained dead. That he was just a potions master that few liked but everyone respected. That he hadn't sacrificed his friendship with the two women who'd done so very much for him.

For just a moment Severus truly believed he could find a moment of peace.

Pushing open the door, he stalked into his old quarters and breathed in the familiar scent. Everything remained exactly as he'd left it. Down to the cloaks hanging on the hooks by the door. He hadn't had the heart to fully remove himself from these rooms, his home. Though rooms retained the spartan simplicity that he'd always enjoyed, with only bookshelves and a few odd trinkets he'd deigned to collect decorating the room, nothing had ever felt more like home. It felt good to return here. As if all the weight he'd carried for the past year had melted away.

For the first night in what felt like forever, Severus allowed himself to relax in the comfort and peace of his old life.

***

His nightly rounds had almost come to an end, thank God. It had been midnight when he first started roaming the corridors of the old castle and now the clock struck 3 am. Severus had spent the past week avoiding the Headmaster's rooms in favor of getting peaceful sleep in his own rooms. The temptation to remain there had only grown the longer he continued this habit. But he could no longer help himself.

It was worth it on the few mornings he'd awoken blissfully forgetful of the many evil deeds the past year had held. Those mornings when he woke thinking Dumbledore still alive and his worries a distant possibility. Those few mornings when he woke refreshed and whole, unsullied by nightmares and believed that he could walk to the Great Hall to enjoy breakfast while bantering with Minerva. Those mornings were hard. Wonderful until memories slid back into place and reality reasserted itself but once it had, life returned to its usual misery. Despite such setbacks, Severus suffered through it to spend his evenings in his home. Where, at least for a few blissful moments, he didn't have to hate himself.

As he rounded the last few corners which led to these rooms, he ran into something all and solid. Something small, solid, and alive. Startled, the Headmaster looked down into the fearful eyes of two young students. A boy who looked about sixteen and a girl who might have been fourteen, both wearing Gryffindor robes. Internally sighing, Severus wondered why that house had to constantly make his life hell. A rough voice calling out in the darkness ahead made the situation that much worse.

“I know you’re around here somewhere brats,” Amycus Carrow’s voice called from around the corner. “Stop hidin’ now and it’ll be better for you.”

Severus’s gaze traveled from the two students back to the corridor where Amycus creeped ever closer. Stepping aside he moved his body away from the students, allowing them to pass. When they stood frozen, apparently uncertain of what to do, he sighed heavily.

“Go you imbeciles,” he hissed causing the two to jump and take off quickly down the corridor.

Severus picked up his own pace so that he might run into Amycus before the other man made it to him. Luckily, he timed everything perfectly and ran straight into the larger Carrow.

“You great oaf,” he said while Amycus took several seconds to realize what he’d run into. “Watch where you’re going.”

“Sorry, headmaster,” Amycus ground out in a voice that on some level sounded respectful. “I’m lookin’ for a couple trouble makers. Saw ‘em run this way after we caught they’re ring leader. You haven’ seen em have ya?”

“I haven’t seen anyone until I so unfortunately ran into you,” Severus lied with ease. “What did you mean that you’ve caught the ring leader?”

Amycus’s eyes lit up with malicious delight. “Those little brats what have been painting graffiti all over the school all year. We caught ‘em in the act this time. Can’t get out of it this time,” the man cackled with dark delight.

“Back on topic, Carrow. Who is the ring leader?”

“We were right, it’s Longbottom. Got him this time too. No wigglin’ out of it or lettin’ that old prude talk us out of punishin’ the way we see fit.”

Carrow was giddy with glee at seeing his least favorite student caught in the act. Unfortunately, the despicable man was right; Minerva couldn’t save Longbottom this time.

“Where’s the boy?” Severus asked, allowing his mind the time it needed to figure a way out of this situation.

“Alecto has him up ahead.”

“Take me to him. I believe it’s time we dealt with this particular problem properly.”

“’Bout time!”

Amycus led the way further into the dungeons towards the Slytherin common room. Apparently, Longbottom had miscalculated just how dangerous this area could be. Alecto had the boy pushed up against the wall at wand point. Longbottom had a black eye and rather nasty cut above his eyebrow, but he stared defiantly back at the Death Eater in front of him.

“Headmaster,” Alecto said as they approached. “We caught him tryin’ to paint the walls outside your old quarters.”

“Was he alone?” Severus asked knowing the answer to his question before asking it.

“No,” Alecto said, “the others got away.”

“That’s who I was lookin’ for when I ran into you Headmaster,” Amycus added.

“Well, well, well,” Severus drew out the words as he moved to stand right in front of the stupidly brave boy. “I’m impressed with you for once Longbottom. You’ve managed to go almost the entire year without screwing up immeasurably. At least until now that is. Wouldn’t your grandmother be proud?”

Longbottom bristled at the final sneering words. “Not nearly as proud as I am of her for showing your Death Eater pals a thing or two,” the boy said. “I didn’t realize You-Know-Who had recruited quite so many idiots.”

“You little-”

“That’s enough Amycus,” Severus ordered. “The boy is pretending he’s an adult, let him play. He’s been given just enough rope with which to hang himself. I’m sure the Dark Lord will have a special punishment for you. Especially once he’s told that you’ve been behind the many rebellious actions of the student body this past year. I’d wager he’ll even be willing to allow old family friends to keep you company. Bella will be delighted to hear that.”

A proper dose of fear crept into Longbottom’s demeanor at Severus’s threat. Severus felt an odd mix of self-loathing at twisting such a knife in the young man and pleasure at finally seeing Longbottom realize how much danger his actions had landed him in. It didn’t hurt that Longbottom had caused him so very many headaches this past year.

Severus turned to the Carrows. “Go find the others. Any student found out of bed tonight will be considered an accomplice. I’ll deal with Longbottom personally.”

“I’m sorry I’ll miss this one,” Alecto hummed as she trailed a hand down Longbottom’s face. “Snape can be very creative when it comes to cursing those who’ve caused him such trouble.”

“I look forward to seeing the results,” Amycus laughed.

“Here’s the boy’s wand,” said Alecto.

She handed the wand off to Severus and joined her brother in the search for accomplices to tonight’s act of rebellion. Severus fervently prayed that they found no one else out of bed tonight. Moving his attention back to Longbottom, he weighed his options carefully.

He resolved to start with the question which had most plagued him. “Why were you outside my old rooms this evening Longbottom?” When the boy only stared back at him in some imagined show of strength and further defiance, Severus rolled his eyes. “I don’t need you tell me to figure it out, but I’m allowing you the option. Now cease pretending to be a martyr and answer my question. This is your final chance to tell me exactly what you think.”

Longbottom clenched his jaw but, in spite of his trembling hands, refused to break eye contact.

“We planned on painting graffiti outside your door,” the boy finally answered.

“How very original,” Severus sneered. “You do know that’s no longer my office correct?”

“But it’s where you’ve been sleeping,” Longbottom replied.

Severus paused, impressed with the boy’s observations and furious at himself for being caught. “And how would you know where I sleep or spend my time?”

“I overheard Professor McGonagall saying something snide about it to you one day. And we watch you.”

“How very entertaining that must be for you Longbottom. We?”

Longbottom visibly berated himself for that slip up. “Dumbledore’s Army.”

“Yes, your ridiculous group that’s caused me so many troubles this year. If you weren’t so incredibly thick, you’d know that parading around under that name is dangerous these days.”

“Not much else you and yours can do to me.”

“There are a great many things that can still be done to you Longbottom,” Severus promised icily. “You think death is the worse thing that can happen to you? If that’s so, I’d suggest you spend a little time thinking on your visits to your parents at St. Mungo’s. They are perfect examples of how much worse things can get for you.”

“Don’t talk about them,” Longbottom shouted. 

“Touch a nerve?”

“You’re a bastard.”

“So I’ve been repeatedly informed. You have detention in the Headmaster’s office with myself and whomever the Dark Lord sends tomorrow night. Were I you, I wouldn’t be around to find out who that guest of honor is. Return to your common room.”

Longbottom’s eyes widen fearfully once more. Severus spun on his heel and stalked back towards his office, hoping that Longbottom would use his brain just this once and heed his warning. If Longbottom showed up tomorrow he couldn’t protect the boy any longer.

\---

The Room of Requirement had outdone itself once more. A passageway that Neville was certain hadn't been there before, led him straight to an antechamber in the Headmaster's office. Voldemort’s appearance in the Entrance Hall late this evening had set the gathered members of Dumbledore's Army on edge.

After Snape’s threat of detention with himself and whomever Voldemort sent to join, Neville had decided it was time for him to go into hiding. He’d left Snape in the dungeons and rushed to his dormitory to gather his things. A short time later he’d found himself in the Room of Requirement hiding from Snape, the Carrows, and anyone else who might do him harm. After a few days he’d been joined by a few other members of Dumbledore’s Army and they’d begun causing mayhem at the school once more.

Voldemort’s appearance had set fear aflutter within the ranks of Dumbledore’s Army. The dark wizard had made few journeys to the school and had only been spotted by the rebellious students one other time. Usually he allowed his new Headmaster to handle business at the wizarding school without interference. Which, in Neville's mind, meant that his appearance now could signal nothing good. They needed to know what Voldemort wanted from his Death Eaters tonight.

After sneaking along the passage, Neville had found himself in a small closet directly off the Headmaster's office. The door he came to was well hidden behind a large tapestry, allowing him to open it ever so slightly and peer into the office. It looked much the same as it had under Dumbledore's watch. Cheerfully lit and full of odd instruments, it seemed as though Snape had little desire to alter his predecessor's decor.

The only real difference was the terrifying man currently pacing in front of a prone figure. The body on the floor was curled into a fetal position as tremors wracked it's form. To Neville's shock he recognized the greasy dark hair and black robes of the man currently facing Voldemort's wrath.

"How difficult is it to maintain teenagers?" Voldemort's high voice rang through the room.

Neville suppressed a shudder and took several calming breaths. He had to remain steady and gather what information he could to help the Order and Dumbledore's army. Channeling all the bravery he could muster, the young Gryffindor waited for Snape's response.

"I’m sorry my lord," the prone man gasped. "We’re doing the best we can.”

"Things appear differently, Severus," Voldemort replied as he raised his wand and directed towards the Headmaster.

Snape's cries ripped through Neville as the man thrashed under the Cruciatus curse. Two minutes stretched for an eternity while Voldemort tortured his servant. Finally the curse ceased, leaving Snape to his tremors and the Dark Lord to his impatience.

"You called me to send Bellatrix in to deal with a student, and then said student disappears from under your nose? I enter this evening to find that heinous scrawl written across the entrance to the Great Hall. ‘Dumbledore’s Army still recruiting,’" Voldemort's tone was conversational. Almost as if he'd asked Snape about the weather. Only the faintest undercurrent of anger bled through. “And you’ve allowed this ridiculousness to go unanswered? That doesn’t sound like loyalty to me Severus.”

Rather impressively, Snape gathered control of himself in the space of a breath. The man's body continued shaking with the after effects of torture, but his words rang of clear confidence. "My lord, I believe that student has fled the school and will no longer be a problem. We will make a permanent example out of the next student to act out in defiance. As always, I’m your loyal and faithful servant. The students will rebel at first, but soon enough they’ll understand and accept the new way of things. Especially once Potter is gone.

Neville couldn't see Voldemort's face, but a long silence stretched through the room as he contemplated his spy's assertions. Another flick of his wand sent Snape thrashing about once again. Everything within the young Gryffindor screamed for him to run. However his head and his heart were pushing for different directions. Despite everything Snape had done, did the man truly deserve to be tortured like this? _Like my parents were_ , Neville thought.

But this was the man who'd made Neville's life a living hell for his entire time at Hogwarts. Since taking on the Headmaster position most students only saw Snape when they were in trouble. Unfortunately, Neville wasn't most students. He'd had several run ins with the Headmaster and most ended with Neville in detention. Certainly detention with Snape wasn't nearly as bad as detention with the Carrows, but it seemed as if Snape purposefully sought out the rebellious leader of Dumbledore's Army.

In the end, Neville followed his gut which told him to stay put. While he'd taken the time to decide on a course of action, Voldemort had dropped his latest curse and pulled Snape to his feet and had his eyes locked with the other man's. Long minutes passed as the two remained in that position, until finally Voldemort released Snape, causing the Headmaster to fall to the floor once more.

“See that you regain control of this school Severus,” Voldemort ordered. “And do not call me for such frivolity again in the future. Let this be your warning.”

Voldemort’s wand fell on Snape once again. Neville covered his ears and hid his eyes, unable to watch another second of the man’s torture. Snape remained lying on the ground long after Voldemort left. Neville watched him until the Headmaster finally began pulling himself to his feet.

Knowing he’d be pushing his luck to stay any longer and not wanting to see the after effects of such torture any longer, Neville slipped away back to the Room of Requirement. Very glad that he’d heeded Snape’s threat and had not been subjected to what the Headmaster had just suffered.

\---

“Neville Longbottom is missing.”

She’d begun yelling before she ever entered his office, causing Severus to sigh and lower his head into his hands.

“Minerva go away,” he mumbled from behind his hands.

“Not until you tell me what’s become of that boy,” she said, storming over to his desk and towering over him.

Severus couldn’t stand properly after last night’s meeting with the Dark Lord and he most certainly didn’t have the energy to deal with Gryffindor’s who believed themselves to be righteously angry. He couldn’t deal with his old friend today. Lifting his head, Severus hoped he could turn some of the blame towards her.

“Longbottom’s been missing for three days and you’re just now coming to me?” he asked.

Minerva shifted uncomfortably. “I wasn’t certain if he was hiding after being caught by the Carrows or if the Carrows had caught him. But after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s arrival last night I’ expecting the worst.”

“Rest assured I have no idea where Longbottom is either. The Dark Lord’s ire was fixed on an entirely different matter.”

“You’re not being completely truthful with me.”

 _Damn her._ She knew him far too well.

“Go away, Minerva.”

“Not until you talk.”

Minerva’s face was set in that stubborn manner that promised she wouldn’t be backing down anytime soon. If he had any hope of turning in early, he’d have to find a way to assuage the fiery woman.

“Longbottom was caught four nights ago painting graffiti on the walls outside my quarters,” Severus sighed. “I told the Carrows I would handle his discipline and assigned him detention for the following evening. He never showed up and hasn’t been seen since. As he has no family which we can contact, I reported it to the Ministry and they are searching for the boy. Though if he’s fortunate no one will find him.”

“He has no one to contact because Death Eaters attacked Augusta!”

“All the more reason for the boy to remain hidden away. The Dark Lord is not a fan and quite frankly neither am I. You can take your leave now.”

“If anything happens to that boy-”

“You’ll make my life even more of a living hell I’m certain. The door is that way.” Severus pointed her towards the exit.

As Minerva left the room in a huff, he felt only the slightest guilt at having been so gruff to her. Yet the promise of a bottle of firewhiskey and his bed outweighed that guilt with ease.

***

The Dark Lord had split Dumbledore's grave in his quest for the elder wand. A quest that Severus had been warned about by Albus's portrait, but nothing could have prepared him to see the corpse of his mentor. Intellectually he'd known that the Dark Lord would have to open the tomb somehow, Severus just hadn't expected him to desecrate Dumbledore's final resting place.

Severus told himself that he owed it to Dumbledore and to the students or staff who might wander over to pay their respects to check on the grave. So despite his still aching body and with the knowledge that if discovered he'd endure yet another night of misery, Severus slowly made his way to Albus's grave. The damage had lit a fire of anger within him that had quickly been doused by the sight of Dumbledore's still preserved body.

The dead man looked peaceful, as if he might simply be sleeping. However, Severus knew the Headmaster would never again wake. If his eyes were open, they'd stare lifelessly into the heavens above. Looks, once again, proved deceiving. Despite his deepest wishes for this to all be some twisted an long nightmare, he knew Dumbledore to truly be dead.

Sorrow gripped Severus and drug him back to the pits of despair. Fortunately, he knew these waters well by this point. He'd lashed himself with self loathing often enough that he rarely felt the sting anymore. These days it had settled into a deep and never ceasing ache. A constant companion which dogged each step and haunted every dream.

He'd killed Dumbledore. His friend, mentor, closest thing he had to family. He'd killed him.

That it had been a mercy and at the other man's behest provided little consolation. He'd signed Dumbledore's death warrant as surely as he had Lily's, the day he took the hideous mark on his arm. Those two along with the countless others he'd hurt or indirectly caused harm to, the students of Hogwarts included. Hell wouldn't be enough punishment for him.

Though this past year had been rather close to what he believed Hell to be like.

Shaking his head to rid himself of those self pitying thoughts, Severus put his mind to the task at hand. He couldn't allow others to see the Headmaster like this. It would be traumatic for students and staff alike.

Just as he moved his wand to right the damage, he heard a rustle in the grass behind him. Nerves and instincts long ago honed to react spurned him into turning with his wand arm held high, pointing at the chest of whomever had managed to sneak up on him.

Severus's masked slipped into startled surprise upon seeing Minerva at the end of his wand. Dressed in her usual green teaching robes it was clear that she'd come to pay her respects before beginning the day. Her hair sat neatly atop her head in its usual tight bun underneath her pointed hat as it always did. Had it been any other day or in any other place, such a presence would have been a balm to the torrent Severus currently found himself caught in. The woman looked as formidable as ever, but the familiarity of her grief stricken face almost broke him.

In this moment, when everything had become far too much, seeing that Minerva paid their shared mentor such visits as well hurt more than he'd expected. The knowledge that, even after death, Dumbledore's two most trusted protégés cared enough to check on him displayed the kind of loyalty and care that Severus had only ever dreamed of.

"Minerva," he breathed not trusting his voice with anything further.

Grief slowly turned into disgust as the older woman took in the sight of her colleague standing here, at the grave of the man he'd murdered. Minerva's eyes slowly wandered down to the wand still extended towards her chest and then back up to the man who commanded it.

"Severus," she hissed, "kindly lower your wand."

The order held no compromise or fear. Minerva knew it would be followed and if not then she would be compelled to force Severus into compliance. Ever so slowly, Severus lowered his wand. As he did so, Minerva's attention turned to the grave behind him allowing her to see the damage wrought to Albus's final resting place.

Severus could see the moment that Minerva realized that Dumbledore's tomb had been harmed.

"What did you do?" She asked in a voice so tight with anger that it could barely be counted as a whisper.

"I didn't do this," Severus said steadily. "The Dark Lord-"

"- it wasn't enough to kill him?" shouted Minerva. Her tone was that which she used only on those students who had gone far past too far in their actions. "You couldn't leave him be?"

"Minerva-"

"No, don't you Minerva me Snape! I'm done listening to your pitiful excuses and cold remarks Severus. This time I get to talk and you can bloody well listen. Then you can hand me over to your master, the Carrows, or you can handle me yourself much as you did the Headmaster."

"I-"

Minerva never gave him the chance to finish. "When you first came to Hogwarts it was at Dumbledore's request that I got to know you. He asked me to look out for you, to give you a chance. Otherwise I wouldn't have given you the time of day. I would have stayed away like everyone else, suspected you like everyone else. And much the pity that I didn't.

Albus is the reason you had a home instead of a cell, the reason you had three hot meals a day instead whatever paltry substance they provide in Azkaban. He took you in and wouldn't hear even a hint of a word against you. Albus is why you had people who could tolerate you. He trusted you. And how did you repay that?"

"Minerva-" he pled, anything to stop the torrent of accusations she leveled at him.

"You murdered him! You turned your back on Albus for what? Power? A sick ideology? You're a disgrace to wizard kind. And I'm terribly regretful for ever giving you the time of day. I trusted you!" She shrieked, her face turning an alarming shade of red as her fury rose.

Severus could only draw into himself and wait for the storm to pass. He squared his shoulders and set himself to take her abuse. To let her throw her anger, fear, and frustration at his feet and find some cathartic release in lashing into him. Saving herself from doing such to someone who either wouldn't take it or didn't deserve it.

"But you had me just as throughly fooled you bastard," Minerva continued. "I watched over you, told others off for berating you. I tried to help you, tried to make you believe that someone could care for you, that you didn't have to be so alone. I was so proud of you for turning back, for coming back to the light. After everything you told me about your childhood after everything I remembered about it, I thought it was such an impressive feat. But they were all lies weren't they? It was an act. An admittedly well crafted one, but a waste of time on my part. You neither deserve nor needed anything from me or from Albus. You're quite content to fester in the darkness that so plainly mars your soul.

And now, you and your maniacal master have desecrated Dumbledore's grave. It wasn't enough to betray him and murder him, you had to piss on his memory as well. Albus would have been furious to know what you've become and I'm so very glad he isn't around to see it."

"Please stop-"

"Watch your back Snape, because no one else is going to. As much as I detest everything you've done to the school this past year, I sincerely hope you're still here when Potter takes down He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I hope I get the chance of dispensing justice to you. Or at least watching you pay for everyone that you've hurt and all of the lives you've destroyed."

Severus tried to keep his sneer in place but he wasn't quite certain he managed. Her words gouged into barely healed wounds and split them open once more. Leaving them to bleed and seep into his skin and bones until he could feel nothing but the agony from their opening.

Minerva took the few steps that separated them, until they stood nose to nose. Her righteous hatred meeting his self loathing across the distance of a few centimeters, leaving him with no shelter.

"I despise you Severus Snape. Everything you stand for and everything you are. You're a coward. Killing a man who couldn't defend himself. As low as they come and I sincerely hope that, if He Who Must Not Be Named doesn't finish you off first, I get the chance." Minerva was breathing hard by the end of her berating. Her fury spent on him, leaving behind open sores that would fester and ooze into his every thought.

Breathless she pointed a finger towards the castle. "Leave."

Severus lowered his gaze from her piercing eyes, finding that he could no longer submerse the agony her tirade had caused. Her words had burned into him like a brand, slipping through his ears like acid and he'd had no defense to offer. He couldn't refute anything she said. To do so would be tantamount to signing her death warrant as well. And while handling her ire felt as though it could kill him, Severus knew her death would be his end.

And a growing part of him knew that he deserved her anger. He deserved the pain that came with her words.

A quick nod was all he offered before making his way back to the castle, knowing that Minerva would right the damage done to Dumbledore's tomb. Keeping his shoulders as straight as possible, Severus strode back to the castle.

He'd suffered many beatings in his life. Beginning with his father and extending to the Marauders at Hogwarts. He'd faced the ire of the Dark Lord many times over. Severus had endured more pain than he would like to recall. Yet Minerva's tirade seemed to wound him deeper than any physical beating he'd ever received. Her words weighed him down and the castle had never seemed quite so far away.

***

"You're going to enjoy this one old man," Severus said as he strode into the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore's portrait perked up at his entrance.

Twinkling blue eyes captured perfectly in paint stared down at him from above the desk. "What's happened to put you in such a fine mood?"

Severus stopped mid pace to glower at the portrait. Which only managed to make Dumbledore chuckle.

"Potter and his merry band of half wits broke into Gringotts this afternoon. And then escaped on the back of a dragon."

Dumbledore's face hid all emotion for the span of two heartbeats before his lips curled up into a large smile. "Well I must admit I hadn't expected that," the painting chuckled.

"Yes, yes," Snape snapped. "The boy wonder has certainly outdone himself this time."

"I take it Tom isn't pleased by this turn of events," said Dumbledore.

It hadn't been a question but Snape nodded in reply anyway.

"He's beyond furious. He's put extra protections around the school and in Hogsmeade."

"He thinks Harry will return to Hogwarts?"

"Apparently so," Severus paused and looked up at the portrait of his mentor. "Something big is about to happen Albus. I can feel it."

Dumbledore nodded and tented his fingers. "If Harry does show up tonight, you must find him first."

"And how will I manage that? The boy will curse me on sight. Not to mention what the rest of the staff will do if they find him first. It'll be all I can manage to remain out of chains and locked in the dungeons."

"I trust that you will be able to handle yourself."

"You put far too much faith in me Albus," said Severus. "If the boy shows up it could be all out war."

"Then the importance of your task should be clear."

"Yes, the boy must die. I remember that well enough."

"And Voldemort himself must do it," Dumbledore reminded him. "That is tantamount."

Severus sighed, running a hand down his face. "I know Albus."

Severus had never really forgiven Dumbledore for that bit of treachery. The Headmaster held the knowledge that the boy needed to die for so many years. Held onto the knowledge and hid it from everyone. He'd used Severus as much as the Dark Lord and yet... Severus couldn't find it in himself to hold a grudge against Dumbledore. Though he rightly should, he just couldn't bring himself to hate the old man. Dumbledore had helped him when no one else would. He'd saved Severus from himself and - as Minerva so helpfully pointed out - provided him with more than he could have ever hoped for.

Severus knew that he owed Dumbledore for his life and in that he couldn't hate the man. Despite being used, being lied to, he still the loved the barmy old codger.

An intense burning in Severus's left forearm interrupted his thoughts. At the same moment the alarm for Hogsmeade rang out. Someone had foolishly broken curfew and Severus thought he had a decent idea of who that might be.

"Albus," he said with a nod before turning, "I need to patrol the castle."

"Severus," the portrait called out just as Severus's hand landed on the door. The old man's eyes twinkled sadly, taking one of the young men on whose shoulders he'd placed the world. "I'm truly proud of the man you've become. I couldn't have asked for a better protege or friend. And though no one else will tell you, I believe that Hogwarts has had itself a finer Headmaster than many will ever know this past year."

Severus hid his pride at those words behind a smirk. "I do believe you've grown sentimental old man."

Dumbledore chuckled. "You're a good man Severus, don't ever forget that."

With one final nod and a last look around, Severus left the Headmaster's office. The weight of the war felt somehow heavier tonight. As if they stood before a chasm with no guarantee of climbing out the other side.

Severus took a few deep breaths before slinking into the shadows of the dark castle. Hoping that Dumbledore's words weren't goodbye and that he might return warm and familiar office sooner rather than later.


	14. Revelations, Reconciliations, and Kings Cross pt 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the longest chapter so far, but I refused to split it into anymore parts! There are a few parts within that are taken straight from Deathly Hallows. So if your recognize it, it aint mine and therefore belongs to the one and only JK, who I am not. You guys can expect one more chapter after this and then (drumroll please) we are finished! Well, I mean except for the promised alternate ending and all that… so almost there! Further notes below.

Severus had patrolled the floors surrounding the Headmaster's office, keeping his eyes peeled and his ears open for any type of disturbance. The Dark Lord believed that Potter would be at the castle this evening. And the tension that seemed thick in the surrounding air, forced Severus to agree. He made it to the sixth floor before his mark burned once again, a sign from the Carrows that they had the boy.

The Headmaster sent up a silent prayer that it would truly be this easy and made his way to Ravenclaw Tower.

Upon reaching the fifth floor he realized that his hopes had been for naught. Minerva walked purposefully away from Ravenclaw tower and as Severus ducked into a hidden alcove, he was certain he heard another set of footsteps walking with her. Which could only mean one of two things: either he was hearing things or Potter had utilized that infamous invisibility cloak of his.

Not looking forward to the upcoming confrontation, Severus followed her quietly down the corridor. His stomach clenched uncomfortably as he stealthily prowled after Minerva. How far had he fallen that he now felt it necessary to slink around stalking the woman he’d at one time considered his friend? Though she’d made her feelings towards him quite plain these last few months, Severus couldn’t staunch the tide of grief which threatened to drown him at the prospect of fighting Minerva.

He hoped it wouldn’t come down to that, but luck had never been favorable towards him. Chances of escaping this predicament without hostility were slim indeed. What if he didn’t have a choice but to raise his wand against her? She was so protective of Potter and the rest of her brood. He could simply spill everything to her or beg her for understanding. But the idea of that working was about as likely as the Dark Lord deciding to end the war in favor of taking up a career in tap dancing.

No, if he allowed Minerva to capture him, he would never get the chance to speak with Potter. If the Order won tonight, he’d be shipped off to Azkaban or worse without even the chance of a trial and no opportunity to warn Potter of the danger surrounding his life. If the Dark Lord won, then Minerva and the staff would be held responsible for detaining him and they would most certainly be killed. He couldn’t allow either of those options to transpire. If he left the castle tonight, he would have to do so of his own volition.

Lost in the torrent of his own thoughts, he almost missed the subtle signs which warned that Minerva knew someone followed her. As she spun around, Severus quickly hid himself behind the nearest suit of armor, praying that she wouldn’t force his hand this soon.

“Who’s there?” she said after a few feet, raising her wand to defend herself and Potter.

Sighing at his rotten luck, Severus stepped out from behind the armor and faced his onetime friend.

“It is I,” he said softly.

Minerva’s lips pressed into the telling thin line which promised him there would be no simple resolution to their current predicament. He could see the war waging in her mind as she held him at wand point. In her mind she was the only thing standing between him – and by extension the Dark Lord – and Harry Potter. Resolve settled across her face even as the anger that had built between them all year created a gaping chasm to separate them. Severus knew that he would have no choice but to fight her if he hoped to speak with Potter.

Schooling his feature into their well worn masks, Severus shouldered the part he’d always been meant to play.

“Where are the Carrows?” he asked quietly.

“Wherever you told them to be, I expect, Severus,” Minerva said, sealing their fates.

Stepping forward, Severus allowed his eyes to travel the area around her, looking for any subtle hint of where Potter stood, hidden from prying eyes.

“I was under the impression,” said Severus, “that Alecto had apprehended an intruder.”

“Really?” said Minerva. “And what gave you that impression?”

Severus flexed his left arm unintentionally. She knew exactly what made him think such a thing, she only asked to be difficult.

“Oh, but naturally,” she scoffed. “You Death Eaters have your own private means of communication. I forget.”

 _You didn’t forget anything you crotchety old thing,_ Severus thought to himself, keenly lamenting the loss of friendship between them in this moment. Normally, she’d have noticed just how important it was that he succeed this mission. Normally, she’d have picked up his subtle cues and would have endeavored to help him. But he’d lost all of her trust and faith at the end of last year and now she hated the mere thought of him. Possibly more than she hated the Dark Lord himself.

“I did not know that it was your night to patrol the corridors Minerva,” he said in a silky tone while his eyes continued searching for Potter.

“You have some objection?”

_Stubborn woman!_

“I wonder what could have brought you out of your bed at this late hour?”

“I thought I heard a disturbance,” she lied all too obviously.

“Really?” he replied calling her out. “But all seems calm.”

Finally he forced himself to meet her steady gaze. Black eyes found green and Severus tried with all his might to plead with her through that contact. He had to find Potter before the Dark Lord.

“Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva?” he asked of his old friend. Knowing that she would choose protecting the boy over helping him, but fervently preying that some aspect of their former friendship would bleed through in this moment. That she might help him once more. “Because if you have, I must insist –”

Minerva moved with the speed of a much younger woman. Her wand slashed through the air, giving Severus the barest moment to pull up a Shield Charm. The force of his shield forced her off balance providing him with enough time to open his mind and utilize his skills at Legilimency. He had to stay a step ahead of her in order to not cause her harm. For as much as Minerva might enjoy tearing him apart in this moment, he had no similar wishes.

She brandished her wand at a torch on the wall causing it to fly out of its bracket and the flames to become a ring of fire which filled the entire corridor. As the flames bared down upon him, Severus flicked his wand causing them to turn into a great black serpent which moved slowly enough for Minerva to blast into smoke. Said smoke re-formed and solidified to become a swarm of daggers which Severus only managed to avoid by forcing a suit of armor in front of him. The thuds of the daggers slamming into the armor echoed through the corridor as they missed their mark.

“Minerva,” a squeaky voice which could only belong to Filius called from down the corridor. He, Pomona, and Horace came sprinting down the halls to Minerva’s aid.

“No!” squealed Filius, raising his wand. “You’ll do no more murder at Hogwarts!”

The small professor’s words hit in a way that Minerva’s daggers had not. He hadn’t wanted to become a murder, hadn’t wanted all of this. Severus’s musings caused him to miss Filius’s spell which animated the suit of armor. Metal arms crushed around him even as he struggled to get free.

He had only one option now: he had to flee. Skilled duelist though he knew himself to be, Severus was no match for four fully realized opponents. Especially opponents whom he could not bear to harm. Sending the armor flying back towards his attackers, Severus made his escape.

He hurtled through a classroom door and through the large window on the far wall. The Dark Lord had taught him enough that he knew he could deal with such a fall and anything was better than remaining in the castle and hearing Minerva’s accusations of cowardice being hurled at him.

Once he’d reached safety at the edge of Hogwarts’s grounds, Severus landed and allowed himself to sink to his knees in a moment of weakness. Harry Potter had returned to Hogwarts and the Dark Lord was on his way. A nasty battle was brewing and, as per usual, he would face the fight alone.

***

Harry Potter had returned to Hogwarts. Minerva still reeled from the foolish boy’s revelation in Ravenclaw’s tower. He’d taken on the wrath of the Carrows because they’d insulted her. The boy was James Potter through and through. Chivalrous to a fault and brash enough to act in spite of any danger to himself. Harry Potter had become a fine young man and it seemed that his past year on the run had only strengthened his character further.

Minerva’s chest swelled with pride as she led, he and Ms. Lovegood down the corridors away from Ravenclaw tower. They’d dealt with the Carrows well enough, but Severus still lurked within the castle; awaiting the chance to please his master. Boiling anger and fierce protectiveness fortified Minerva’s will as the trio walked quietly through the corridors towards her office. The other heads of house had been alerted and would meet her there, but until then, she alone stood between Potter and the Dark Lord. If that meant that she had to deter Severus from taking the boy…then she would do what she had to do.

The young potions master that she’d once been so fond of had never truly existed. He’d been a front. A façade to make them all believe his lies. Severus had betrayed her without a second thought and his actions this past year only heightened her resolve. If she had to fight her former friend, she’d do so without hesitation. A small part of her might mourn and rebel at the mere thought of raising her wand against someone she’d once thought herself so close to. But the more prominent part of her mind felt a sharp vindication at the thought of bringing Albus’s murderer to justice, especially if in the same move she protected the Boy Who Lived.

Almost as if her thoughts had conjured trouble, she heard an extra set of footsteps join her in the corridor. Turning quickly she peered into the looming darkness, prepared for whatever danger lurked therein. 

“Who’s there?” she called out, raising her wand to defend herself and her two charges.

“It is I,” came the silky voice that she’d least wanted to hear.

Severus stepped out from behind a suit of armor, crossing the darkness until he stood in the shadows of the surrounding torchlight. He wore his usual robes instead of nightclothes, signaling that he’d been awaiting trouble just as the Carrows had been. His dark hair hung lank around his face lending him a haunted look. With his pale skin and cold eyes, it would have been the simplest thing to mistake him for a corpse.

Minerva’s lips pressed into the telling thin line, knowing there would be no simple resolution to their current predicament. For the barest moment her resolve seemed to falter. Could she really fight this man that she’d cared so deeply for and for so many years?

 _It’s not like I have much of a choice_ , she thought to herself. The hatred that had been building since he’d killed Albus finally overflowed as she stared down the current Headmaster. A line had been drawn and there was no choice but to act. Minerva decided to attempt talking her way out of this fiasco before she began an all out war with Severus and, by extension, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

“Where are the Carrows?” he asked quietly.

“Wherever you told them to be, I expect, Severus,” Minerva said, sealing their fates.

Stepping forward, Severus allowed his eyes to travel the area around her, as if he somehow knew that Potter stood just a few feet behind her.

“I was under the impression,” said Severus, “that Alecto had apprehended an intruder.”

“Really?” said Minerva, fear rising to meet her anger. “And what gave you that impression?”

She knew exactly what gave him that impression, but the odd flexing motion of his left arm confirmed her suspicions. He and the Carrows had expected Potter this evening.

“Oh, but naturally,” she scoffed. “You Death Eaters have your own private means of communication. I forget.”

A hint of desperation flittered through his eyes as they continued roving the corridor behind Minerva. Almost as if his very soul hinged on finding Potter. And perhaps it did.

“I did not know that it was your night to patrol the corridors Minerva,” he said in that silky tone he used when attempting to intimidate others. A tone that hadn’t worked on her in many years.

“You have some objection?”

“I wonder what could have brought you out of your bed at this late hour?”

“I thought I heard a disturbance,” she lied all too obviously.

“Really?” he replied calling her out. “But all seems calm.”

Finally, Severus deigned to stop his searching and meet her steady gaze. Black eyes found green and for the barest moment she thought he might be pleading with her. Had this been last year, she would have instantly jumped to his side, but she knew better now. Severus was little more than a coward doing his best to save his own skin. A wolf that had been hidden in sheep’s clothing waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

“Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva?” he asked. The question one she’d known was coming but still hadn’t been completely prepared for. The moment had come, and she could stand around bandying words no longer. They’d each chosen their sides and found themselves at opposing ends. “Because if you have, I must insist –”

Minerva moved with the speed of a much younger woman. Her wand slashed through the air, giving Severus the barest moment to pull up a Shield Charm. The force of his shield forced her off balance and allowed him the time he needed to get on equal footing.

She brandished her wand at a torch on the wall causing it to fly out of its bracket and the flames to become a ring of fire which filled the entire corridor. As the flames bared down upon him, Severus flicked his wand causing them to turn into a great black serpent which moved slowly enough for Minerva to blast into smoke. She’d forgotten just how skilled he was at dueling. Minerva may have a good deal of power behind her, but she couldn’t hope to go toe to toe with a Death Eater in his prime for an extended time. She had to end this quickly.

Said smoke re-formed and solidified to become a swarm of daggers which Severus only managed to avoid by forcing a suit of armor in front of him. The thuds of the daggers slamming into the armor echoed through the corridor as they missed their mark.

“Minerva,” a squeaky voice which could only belong to Filius called from down the corridor. He, Pomona, and Horace came sprinting down the halls to Minerva’s aid causing relief to flood through the elder witch.

“No!” squealed Filius, raising his wand. “You’ll do no more murder at Hogwarts!”

Filius’s spell hit the suit of armor animating it to wrap its arms around Severus. Realizing that he was now outmatched, Severus struggled out of the armor’s hold and fled down the corridor. Dodging the armor he sent flying at them as best they could, three of the four Heads of House followed hot on his heels. The man hurled himself through a classroom door and through the glass window on the far wall.

Minerva’s heart momentarily stopped. Had Severus just flung himself to his death? She’d wanted justice not his end. A quick look out the window assuaged her momentary foolish fears and brought her anger back to its boiling point. Severus had learned a trick or two from his master it seemed.

“Coward!” She called out to his retreating form, then repeated it once more just to be certain he’d heard her. “COWARD!”

Shaking with righteous fury, Minerva felt a surge of vindictive pleasure at the sight of the hated man’s back. Severus had abdicated his role as Headmaster, Harry Potter had returned to Hogwarts, and Voldemort would soon be upon them. A battle between darkness and light loomed in front of them and the duty to prepare the castle for a magical onslaught fell heavily onto her shoulders. Bidding a final good riddance to her former colleague, Minerva drew upon her courage and strength and began orchestrating the castle’s defenses. War had come to Hogwarts.

***

From the shadows of the massive courtyard, Severus shot a stunning spell at a masked Death Eater sneaking up behind Seamus Finnigan. The cloaked figure went down and Finnigan continued his current fight without ever knowing how closely he’d brushed with death. Severus had spent the hours since fleeing the castle helping the Order where he could and protecting the foolish students who’d stayed to fight.

Exhaustion clung to him like a second skin, threatening to pull him under at any moment. A part of him wanted to allow it to do just that. To curl up in a dark corner somewhere and allow unconsciousness to claim him. To feel nothing for a few brief minutes and perhaps never wake up. To be blessedly finished with this never ending war he’d fought for more years than he hadn’t.

A shake of his head cleared his mind of such foolish notions. He had a duty to perform and, as always, he’d soldier on until that duty ended. Severus knew he had to protect the students and the Order. Most importantly he had to find Harry bloody Potter and tell the boy to sacrifice himself. He had to tell a teenager that all of this death was for nothing, that the brutal fighting waging around the school would all be for naught at the end of the day. Harry Potter had to die regardless. Protecting the boy only prolonged the inevitable.

It would be up to the Order and Potter’s insufferable friends to continue fighting after the boy’s death. Yet as he fought, Severus couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight would be the end of it all. By dawn he felt that his life’s work would be complete and perhaps with that peace would find him.

“Severus,” a voice called from behind him.

Swinging around swiftly, his wand held high, he turned to find a familiar face. Severus sighed and dropped his wand arm.

“Lucius,” he nodded.

“Have you seen him?” Lucius asked.

Severus shook his head. “I’m sorry, I haven’t.” Seeing how the man’s mouth tightened with worry, Severus put a hand on his shoulder. “Draco’s clever, Lucius. He won’t be foolish enough to wander needlessly into danger.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I’ll help you search the castle.”

“I’m afraid you won’t,” said Lucius with a shake of his head. “The Dark Lord requests your presence.” 

“Is something amiss?”

Lucius met his gaze steadily. “He believes he’s close to victory. That Potter will find him before the evening ends.”

“Then what does he need from me?” Severus asked as dread slowly began creeping its way up his spine. “A report on the battle?”

“I don’t old friend. He’s in the Shrieking Shack.”

“Very well.”

A hand on his arm stopped Severus from taking his leave. Desperate grey eyes met his in a hard stare, while several words passed unspoken between the two. The dread that had begun creeping in earlier spread earnestly into his heart and stomach as well.

“I never said thank you,” said Lucius, “for watching over Draco for so long. And for everything you did for him last year. I never said it for a lot of things.”

“Lucius-”

“I need you to know that I’m grateful to have had your friendship over the years. I need you to know just in case I… well just in case.”

If the ground had opened up and swallowed him then and there, Severus wouldn’t have been more shocked. He and Lucius had always been somewhat friendly, but he’d never believed the other man thought of him as a friend. A charity case maybe, but never an equal. The corner of his mouth twitched upward at this unexpected show of respect.

“You and Narcissa have always been good to me. It’s been the least I could do,” Severus replied. “And Lucius, you’re going to be fine. You, Draco, and Narcissa are going to be just fine.”

“Don’t tell me that old fraud of a seer has rubbed off on you,” Lucius smirked in his old familiar way.

Severus allowed himself a soft chuckle. “Nothing quite so heinous as that. Just a bit of faith.”

“I do believe you’ve taken a blow to the head Severus.”

“Goodbye Lucius.”

“Goodbye Severus.”

\--- 

Fear strangled him in the face of the Dark Lord’s questions. He knew where this conversation was heading and try as he might Severus could not find a way out of this deadly situation. He’d overplayed his hand. Made a gargantuan mistake and now the entire wizarding world might pay for his misstep.

Severus had warred with himself since seeing Lucius. If he refused this summons it would be as good as outing himself. And while such a feat would bring him no end of happiness, if this fight ended in a victory for the Dark Lord his position would be a necessity for the Order. On the other hand, he’d yet to lay eyes on Potter. The one time he desperately needed to find the boy, he simply couldn’t. Albus had told him to wait until the Dark Lord feared for Nagini and he hadn’t acted fearful yet, but the current situation called for desperate measures.

Answering the summons could be deadly and costly, but not answering the summons could be catastrophic for more than just him. _Damned if I do and damned if I don’t_ , he’d shrugged.

Now, standing face to face with his nightmare, Severus had to admit that he’d screwed up.

“I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore.”

Severus felt all of the blood leave his face. Death had finally found him, but too early. He’d failed. All of his and Albus’s scheming and suffering had been for nothing. He’d failed in warning Potter.

“My Lord –” he tried to plead one last time, “let me go to the boy –”

“All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here,” said the Dark Lord, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “wondering, wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for the rightful owner… and I think I have an answer.”

Severus couldn’t find any words to defend himself or to dissuade the Dark Lord. _I’ve failed. I’ve failed. I’ve failed._ The thought ran through his mind on repeat. He knew exactly what was about to happen.

“Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen.”

No regret tinged the man’s words. Only the bitter irony of being called a good and faithful servant of the man about to kill him resonated with Severus. Everything else fled as terror coursed through his being.

“My Lord –”

“It cannot be any other way,” said the Dark Lord. “I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last.”

The Dark Lord swiped the air with the Elder wand. Severus raised his wand in defense, finally standing against the Dark Lord, but when nothing immediate happened he had a moment of relief. Perhaps he’d earned a reprieve from the Dark Lord. But the man’s intention soon became clear. Nagini’s cage was rolling through the air towards him, and before Severus could do anything more than yell in surprise, it had encased his head and shoulders.

Fear that had been hidden behind a mask broke through as the snake whirled around him hissing softly. He thought he heard the Dark Lord whisper something and then the beast attacked. Its fangs sank deep into his neck releasing a venom which burned his veins and spread like wildfire. A terrible scream filled his ears as he struggled to push the cage and snake off of him. His wand forgotten in the animalistic struggle for life. As Severus’s knees gave way and he sank to the floor the snake released him and followed the Dark Lord out the door.

Severus fell to his side trying to no avail staunch the blood gushing from his neck. Nagini’s venom tore through him destroying nerves and tissue with ease. He felt as if his very body was on fire. Severus knew death was coming for him swiftly. Here in this horrible shack where the Marauders had tried to kill him so long ago, foreshadowing this very moment in some kind of sick poetry. Yet all he could think about as he lay alone and dying was that he’d so completely failed in the most important task left to him.

As darkness began encroaching his vision a flash of green above him caught his attention. Black eyes widened as they met the beautiful green, he’d never stopped loving. Potter had found him somehow. Luck truly did seem to follow the boy like a faithful dog. Summoning every ounce of strength and magic he had left Severus grasped the boy’s collar and pulled the most important memories to the forefront of his mind.

“Take…it…” he gasped desperately. “Take…it…”

Potter may have hated him, but for once in his life the boy listened. A flask was brought forward and the boy pulled the memories away. As they drifted by, Severus’s long miserable life flashed before his eyes. When the boy had all the memories tight in his grasp, Severus took a few more ragged breaths.

“Look…at…me…” he whispered. Those entrancing green eyes found his once more and he fell into a numb sense of nothingness. “You have your mother’s eyes.”

His grip on the boy slackened and darkness pulled him under into a bright white light. The sheer brilliance of the light stunned him for a moment and temporarily blinded him. A smiling face with gleaming green eyes found his once again. For the space of a few seconds he thought he’d awoken back in the Shrieking Shack, but as his vision settled, he noted that those eyes weren’t hidden under a mop of messy dark hair. Instead they were framed by red hair and a dash of freckles he’d loved so very much for so very long.

_Lily._

The peace Severus had been searching for, finally found him.

***

Dumbledore arranged his death with Snape. _Dumbledore was already dying when Snape killed him._ The two people she’d considered herself closest too had left her out of the loop. They’d schemed and plotted without her with the result that she’d spent the past year acting on her cruelest nature towards someone who desperately needed her support. _Snape was Dumbledore’s._ Potter’s words ran on loop through her head. Severus hadn't betrayed them. He hadn't betrayed her.

No the truth was so much worse.

She betrayed him. Turned her back on her friend when he'd needed her most. And what was worse is that she'd made it her mission to make this past year a living hell for him. The man she'd spent so many years getting to know. The boy she'd watched from afar. Guilt grasped her tightly and drowned her in despair. Holding her under until she couldn't find breath.

She'd betrayed him.

_Snape was Dumbledore’s._

Minerva made her slow way into the rooms off the entrance hall where the dead had been placed. She owed it to her longtime friend to look after him. A task she'd failed abysmally in life but refused to shirk in death. Minerva knew he had no family - she and Albus had been the closest Severus had come - so she took it upon herself to claim his body and deal with arrangements.

Walking through the room where the defenders of Hogwarts lay, Minerva thought back on this horrid day. She'd spoken to Potter already about Severus. Getting the details from him about the Headmaster's final moments and why Potter had experienced such a sudden change in heart.

She could remember how close young Severus had been to Lily Evans now that she put her mind to it. She recalled that the two had been nigh on inseparable for years and all the gossip it had caused among the staff. And yet, Minerva hadn't thought about those memories in years. It had almost slipped her mind entirely. But as she considered this information, it put many of Severus's past actions and words into perspective. She'd been blind.

In the end, Severus had faced Voldemort as he faced everything else; completely alone. Worse, he'd died believing no one cared or would remember him fondly. He'd died knowing that the wizarding world hated him as much as his master.

The notion came close to sending Minerva into a breakdown amongst the dead. A few steady breaths allowed her to pull herself together, until she noted that she'd stopped at the feet of Remus Lupin. An entire generation wasted on a pointless war waged over the hatred of a few loud voices. Remus, Sirius, James, Lily, and Severus were only the cusp of that generation. A handful of the many who’d died or suffered because of one fool and his rabid followers. She'd lost more students than she cared to think on, her mentor, so many friends, and she'd utterly betrayed the young man she'd come to view as an odd mix between a friend and a wayward son.

Buried beneath a mountain of grief, Minerva attempted to claw her way out long enough to see to this one last task.

After checking and rechecking each of the faces in this room, Minerva hadn't managed to locate Severus. She’d made certain that his body was retrieved from the Shrieking Shack right after her conversation with potter, so she knew he had to be here somewhere. A quick survey of the room revealed to her a young blonde woman in St. Mungo's robes walking along the many rows with a clipboard in hand.

"Excuse me," said Minerva once she'd gotten closer to the young woman. "I'm looking for someone perhaps you can help?"

The woman smiled sadly at her displaying rows of too white teeth. "Of course professor, whom are you looking for?"

An old student then, that should speed things along, she thought to herself.

"Professor Snape."

The healers face tightened and a frown pulled down her lips. "Death Eaters aren’t being placed in here Professor," said the young woman.

Minerva blanched. "I'm sorry Ms..."

"Carlyle, Rebecca Carlyle."

"I'm sorry Ms. Carlyle," Minerva continued, "but there must be some confusion. Severus is…" Minerva winced and changed tenses, "Severus was a member of the Order of the Phoenix."

Rebecca Carlyle held the professor's gaze, obviously choosing her next words carefully.

"I'm sorry professor McGonagall, but that's not what our records say. Severus Snape was a well known Death Eater, his body won't be in here."

Minerva felt her lips tighten into a fine line. Drawing herself to full height, which gave her a few inches on the young witch, she leaned over Rebecca prepared to release the anger that had been pent up inside her since Potter's story. The young healer flinched but held her stance steady in the face of Minerva’s wrath.

"Severus," began Minerva in short clipped tones, "worked for the Order, as a spy in Voldemort's ranks. Surely you lot heard Potter's tale?"

"Professor," Rebecca said in a calming voice, "I understand, it's been a difficult day for everyone, but it's out of my hands. I'm just here to record those who died during the battle so that we can get family contact information. Where they put the bodies isn't up to me. I'm just telling you how it is."

Minerva had to give the woman credit, she didn't budge an inch, but still... "Then I suggest you point me in the direction of the person whose job it is."

"Happily ma'am. Right outside this door there's an older man named Killian. He's got dark hair and he'll be wearing green robes like mine. He's in charge of directing us and he'll be able to answer your questions better than I will."

Minerva stormed from the room in search of her next target. Her blood boiled through her veins as the righteous fury she so often clung to claimed her once again. Objectively she knew that her anger was, in part, directed at herself, but rationality and logic could bugger off for right now. She had a friend to care for and a memory to preserve. 

“Excuse me,” Minerva said, even managing to be polite, directing her words to a man in his thirties who looked to be in charge. “I’m looking for a man by the name of Killian.”

The younger man flashed her with a charming smile that highlighted bright blue eyes, creating a rather pleasant picture.

“Professor McGonagall,” he answered in a soft Irish lilt. “It’s been sometime since I’ve had the pleasure.”

 _Another former student_ , she thought, _excellent._

“It has been sometime,” Minerva said, while trying to place Killian in a long list of former students. “But then we’re so often sequestered in the school that it’s hard to get out these days.”

“And not much reason to until today,” he smiled. “Can I help you with something.”

“Yes, I’m looking for the body of an old friend and I’m hoping you can help me locate him.”

“Of course Professor. We’re still processing everyone and attempting to get familial contact information. Name?”

“Severus Snape.”

Killian’s face instantly darkened and the smile fell from his face. “And why would you be looking for him?”

“I’m not entirely certain that’s your concern, but to shorten the argument I can see brewing in your face let’s suffice to say that he’s a friend.”

“If you’re friendly with Death Eaters, then I’m afraid I’ve greatly misjudged you Professor.”

“I’m friendly with Order members not Death Eaters.”

“Then I’m confused as to why you’re looking for Snape.”

Minerva felt her lips stretch into the thinnest line possible. “Are you going to provide me with information or not?”

Killian’s eyes narrowed as he contemplated his next move. A sneer that rivaled that of the man he besmirched crossed the healer’s face. “The bodies of Severus Snape, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Tom Riddle have been moved to the farthest room on the right. Away from the others and the maximum distance possible from the heroes who died fighting against You-Know-Who.”

"And why may I ask is he in there?"

"Known Death Eater, murdered Albus Dumbledore, crimes against children, and other heinous acts," the healer ticked off his reasons without breaking Minerva's gaze.

"You seem to have forgotten spy for the Order of the Phoenix. Which would explain his other actions quite well."

"Yes because most organizations give you a membership card for murdering their leader."

"In case you missed Harry Potter's defeat of Voldemort,” said Minerva, her outrage rising to meet her disbelief, in clipped tones, “Dumbledore asked Severus to do that. It was a ploy, a clever one, but a ploy none the less."

"I'm sorry Professor but the word of a teenager isn't quite enough to sway my opinion. You forget, I knew Snape as both a student and teacher. And I've spent the past five years knowing him as the only teacher my daughter has ever feared. So you'll have to forgive me."

"Severus has spent the majority of the past two decades trying to thwart the actions of the madman who you've shut him away with!"

"Let me stop you there, Professor,” Killian argued holding up his hand to illustrate his impatience. “A few supposed good deeds don't outweigh a lifetime of terrible deeds. He was a Death Eater, one who has no family or friends to visit him. He, You-Know-Who, and Bellatrix Lestrange have been cordoned off from the bodies of those who have families here. If you want to move him, you can explain to the parents and families whose children he had tortured this past year why his body is in the same room of those who died fighting bravely to defeat You-Know-Who.

"He protected the students to the best of his ability."

"Tell that to my daughter who was tortured for not turning in homework to Alecto Carrow,” Killian roared. “Explain to me how he protected my kid then. Or how he stood aside while countless other kids suffered similar punishments."

The argument between professor and healer had grown into a full blown shouting match that had begun attracting the attention of others in the hall. Many looked at them in shock while others shot them disapproving glares. However, not one of them felt foolish enough to step in between Minerva McGonagall and whomever she’d decided deserved her wrath.

"Severus did the best he could," she hissed.

"Well it wasn't enough,” Killian countered. “As far as I'm concerned, he could have rotted in the Shrieking Shack."

"He deserves better than that, better than this."

"He deserves to be locked away in Azkaban suffering for the rest of his days with dementors outside the doors. But seeing as his death seems suitably horrific and painful, I'll settle for knowing he's somewhere much worse."

Silence encompassed them. In all her long years, Minerva had never come so close to hexing someone into oblivion. The bastard didn’t even know Severus and yet… and yet this was what she would have to come to expect. Not everyone would be sold on Harry’s story. It had been hard enough for her to swallow, for those who’d never gotten as close to Severus as her…it would be a difficult story to sell.

Severus had died knowing that the wizarding world hated him and believing that would never change. Minerva swore to herself then and there that she would do her best to restore his name.

"I'm taking custody of his body."

"You don't have that authority."

"As Headmistress of this school I have that authority. Severus has no living family and therefore it is the school's responsibility to handle his arrangements."

Killian's face set in the mimicry of a smile. "You'll need help removing the body. There are anti magic wards lining the room. An added precaution. And I’ll need to approve those who enter the room. Good luck finding willing aid Professor."

"Thank you," Minerva responded in what have been deemed a kind tone had her fury not been so evident. Turning on her heel, Minerva set out to right this most egregious wrong.

She stormed into the Great Hall, eyes scanning the room desperately for some kind of help. Her gaze fell on the one person who might have enough sway to change the perceptions of those who would see Severus's memories desecrated. The one person who had already suffered more than any child should. Sighing heavily, Minerva knew she shouldn't bother Harry right now, but Severus needed her, and she'd failed him enough already.

"Potter," said Minerva as she approached the table.

Tired green eyes looked up at her, brightening as the teenager recognized her. “Professor.”

“I’m afraid that I need your assistance.”

Minerva didn’t miss the slight dismay that colored his expression before being pushed into a smile.

However, true to her nature, it was Ms. Granger who spoke up first. “What’s wrong?”

Minerva honestly hadn’t recognized that the two youngest Weasleys, Longbottom, Lovegood, and Granger all sat around Potter. Truthfully, she shouldn’t have been surprised, but given everything that had happened in the past few hours the professor decided to cut herself a bit of slack.

“It’s Severus,” she began, her throat oddly thick and constricting making it difficult to speak.

“Have they gotten his body yet?” Potter asked. “It took a lot of convincing to get them to send someone out to the Shack. I had to threaten to go out there myself before they found a smidge of decency and did their jobs.”

“Given the conversation I’ve just had, I’m not surprised,” said Minerva. “Did you know they’ve separated the Death Eaters and those who fought for the Order?”

The group of teenagers all nodded slowly.

“Can’t blame them for that,” Longbottom admitted.

“I wouldn’t want Dolohov anywhere near Tonks and Lupin,” Ginny Weasley agreed.

“Or Bellatrix Lestrange anywhere close,” said Ron Weasley.

“It’s funny you should mention Lestrange,” Minerva interrupted seeing her opening. “She and Voldemort have a room to themselves. Along with Severus.”

Potter was on his feet in an instant. “What?” he yelled gaining the attention of half the Great Hall.

“The staff of St. Mungo’s seem to believe that Severus and Lestrange are on par with Voldemort and as such shouldn’t be kept with or near the others. Apparently even the Death Eaters have family here who may wish to find closure and Lestrange and Severus aren’t welcome with them either.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Potter spat. “Snape was a member of the Order!”

“And I know that Potter. They aren’t willing to take your word on it though.”

“Who do I talk to?”

Relief and pride filled Minerva to the brim. Potter truly was a remarkable young man. “I have the authority to move his body, but the healer in charge will make it difficult. I need your help getting him from the room.”

“Lead the way Professor.”

They’d made it all of five steps before another body joined their group. Neville Longbottom shot them both a look of fierce determination.

“I’m coming too. You may need an extra set of hands to move him.”

Minerva didn’t know how to react. Of all the people to volunteer to help Severus, Longbottom would not have been on her list of expectations. The boy had suffered at the hands of the Potions Master for more than just this past year. At one time Severus had been Longbottom’s biggest fear, so to see him willing to go to bat for the professor shocked her. However, she refused to reject any offer of help in this situation. 

With Potter and Longbottom – two of the most celebrated heroes of the day – flanking her, the healers had little choice but to let them take Severus’s body. She conjured a stretcher and the trio had walked right in without resistance. Judging from the filth still covering the man, he’d been dropped into the room and left with little thought. Blood had saturated the man’s robes causing them to look darker than their normal black. The gore covering his neck and leaking onto his face contrasted poorly with his far too pale skin. Minerva had thought he looked like a corpse when she forced him out of Hogwarts early yesterday evening, now she knew how right she’d been. Minerva had been perfectly willing to take over once they’d left the Great Hall, but both boys refused to leave her side.

Potter and Longbottom each grabbed an end of the stretcher and carried Severus out of the room, following their Head of House without question.

“Where do you want to take him, Professor?” Longbottom asked once they were away from prying eyes and mistrustful ears.

“To his quarters in the dungeons,” she responded leading the way. “That’s where he felt most at home.”

A reverential silence encompassed the trio as they carried the body of the late Headmaster down the twisting corridors of the old school. Each lost in their own thoughts and memories and each battling the guilt which seemed to chase too closely behind them, nipping at their heels. So much had been lost in one single day.

They managed to reach Severus’s rooms before guilt could catch them and before the grief, which hung heavy in the air, could drown them. Laying Severus’s body gently on a couch in the sitting room, the three stood together, afraid to break the desperately loud silence.

Being the Head of Gryffindor and therefore properly brave, Minerva endeavored to be the one who broke the spell. “Thank you, boys for this and for all you’ve done.”

“S’ the least we could do,” Potter mumbled, his eyes fixed on his former nemesis. “After everything…”

Longbottom nodded his assent. “Harry’s right, we owe him this and more. He saved my life this year. I owe him for that.”

Pride once again spread warmth through Minerva’s chest. Her boys had grown into themselves quite nicely. She’d fought side by side with these remarkable young men and she couldn’t have asked for anyone better. Minerva mourned the loss of a childhood that neither would ever have, but once again, her former students had proven themselves worthy of her admiration. Instead of putting any of that into words she provided them with a warm smile and a hand on each shoulder.

“We do,” she answered simply. “I’ll take care of it from here boys. You two have more than earned a little rest.”

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Longbottom asked.

“I’m certain.”

Both young men turned from her and walked to the door. A small exchange between Potter and Longbottom left she and the Boy Who Lived alone.

“Professor,” said Potter, his hand on the door and his eyebrows drawn together as he contemplated something serious. “He didn’t…Snape wasn’t alone in the end. I may not have been his first choice for company, but at least he wasn’t alone.”

Tears leaked from her eyes before she could even think of staunching them. “Thank you, Harry. I think he would have rather appreciated the irony of it.” She said the last with a small watery smile that he did his best to return before leaving her to her duty.

Finally alone, Minerva allowed herself to fall apart. Sobs wrenched from deep within her as she fell to her knees beside the body of her old friend. The young man she’d thought so much of and had wronged so deeply. Severus had been her closest friend for many years. To the point that she’d come to view him as a wayward and infuriating son somewhere along the way.

She’d known him for twenty-seven long years, since he’d first stepped through the doors of Hogwarts as a small awkward child. She’d known him when he was little more than an angry young man. A boy with more rage and sorrow than a child his age should know. A young man with a penchant for landing himself in precarious situations and who would have been top of his class if it hadn't been for two overzealous Gryffindors that the school believed hung the moon. She’d known him as a troubled teenager who made several poor decisions. And she’d known him as a young adult who’d fought his way out of the darkness and back to the light.

Minerva had watched him grow from that awkward and angry boy into a sullen but clever man. He’d grown from one of the many students she chased after into a friend that she’d loved so dearly. And she’d betrayed him.

She’d left him when he needed her the most. Forsaken him and left him to fight on his own. What made it worse was that she’d done her best to make his last year of life as difficult as possible.

 _Coward, bastard, disgrace, undeserving…_ the list of insults went on and on and she’d said every one of them to his face. How deeply her words must have cut him. Because now she knew that Severus hadn’t been lying to her. The warmth of friendship she felt around him and been mutual. The long nights of drinking and griping, the ability to say something without speaking, the many moments of teasing, all of it had been mutual. He’d clearly latched on to her as his only friend, to the point that when he pushed everyone else away two years ago, he’d held on to her until the last possible moment.

Minerva allowed herself to succumb to the overwhelming sense of remorse and grief that had threatened to consume her since her discussion with Potter. As tide after tide of pain washed over her, a bone deep numbness spread through her. She prayed that she would close her eyes and wake to find that it had all been a bad dream. That Voldemort may still be alive, but at least she hadn’t stabbed one of her wards in the back. That young man she’d considered good as family would stalk into the room and berate her for her ridiculous display of emotions. That Severus would give her that slight quirk of his mouth which meant he found her remarks humorous but was too stubborn to admit it, just once more. That the next time she entered the staff room he’d be there, drink in hand, ready to discuss nothing and trade quips for hours.

But no matter how hard she wished or how hard she prayed, Severus remained dead and she remained buried in her shame.

***

Severus’s funeral had been a small affair. The Order had gathered to lay him to rest and several old students had stopped by to pay their respects to the infamous Potions Master. It had taken the weight of Harry Potter’s name, Minerva’s persistence, and a petition signed by over half the Order and several former students; but they persuaded the board to allow them to hold Severus’s funeral at Hogwarts. Potter in particular had been adamant that they provide their spy with a proper send off for a war hero. And neither he nor Minerva could deny that Hogwarts had been Severus’s home and therefore the best place to commemorate his memory.

Since the former Headmaster’s role during the war was still up for debate, attendance had been low. But Minerva believed he’d have been happy for that. Potter and Longbottom – Minerva felt certain Severus had rolled in his grave out of shock – had both spoken about Severus’s many admirable traits and some of his less than admirable ones as well. She’d spoken as well, but nothing she said could ever bring her closure. Not with this death.

Those in attendance had lingered long enough to share a few humorous or noble tales of Professor Snape before seeing their way out of the Great Hall. It had been a lovely service indeed. One Severus had never expected, and Minerva had prayed would go as well as it had. He’d more than earned to have his memory honored. When only Potter, a few Weasleys, Granger, Longbottom, and Lovegood remained, Minerva had called an end to the event.

She and the remaining members of Dumbledore’s Army buried Severus in Godric’s Hollow, right next to the grave of Lily Potter. They’d lingered for a while longer, no one wanting to admit that it was finally over, but eventually time had won that battle as well.

The funerals of the fifty heroes who died at Hogwarts had finally come to an end. The time for mourning had officially ended, though those who fought knew it would be much longer before grief finally surrendered them. However, life had to continue. The world would continue spinning and therefore those who still lived had to march onwards, reluctant though their steps may be.

The day had been one of the longest she could remember and when at long last she collapsed into the cozy armchair in her office, Minerva felt as if she’d aged twenty years in that day. Severus was dead, but she still lived. So many younger than her had died and yet here she sat.

Sinking into her now constant depression, Minerva almost missed the slight clearing of a throat from somewhere behind her. Turning quickly in her chair, the old woman’s eyes scanned the room looking for the intruder. Her eyes came to rest on the portrait which hung behind her desk. The portrait which usually contained an empty Scotland meadow now contained a former Headmaster whom she’d been avoiding since the battle.

“Albus,” she said cordially.

“Good evening, Minerva,” Albus Dumbledore replied from his place within the frame. “The funeral was lovely. I believe Severus would have been touched.”

“He would have griped about everything,” she snorted.

A small smile graced Albus’s face. “Indeed he would have. I’m sure he would have remarked about just how insufferable it all was.”

“He would’ve liked it though,” said Minerva, turning her attention to her hands as remorse gripped her once more. “He shouldn’t have needed one.”

“Nor should the forty-nine others have needed one.”

“Why didn’t you tell me.”

“Minerva-”

“No,” she interrupted, shooting a glare at her mentor. “You should have told me or at least given me a hint.”

“I gave you my word that you could trust him,” Albus replied, heavily weighing each of his words.

Minerva rolled her eyes. “Your word which was instantly questioned when he, by all appearances, murdered you.”

“It was all I could provide. Severus and I agreed that for anyone else to know would put both him and that person at too great of a risk. The benefits outweighed-”

“His need for companionship? His mental state?” she spat. It felt vindicating to, at long last, have someone to vent her anger and frustration at. “Severus spent the past year believing the absolute worst of himself and he faced every second of it alone. And you saw to that Albus.”

“I couldn’t betray him Minerva,” Albus answered in a tone that brokered no argument. “After everything Severus did for me, everything he meant to me, I couldn’t let him down in the one thing he begged me to keep secret.”

“But you’re perfectly amenable to me betraying him?” Minerva countered.

“Severus never believed that you betrayed him, Minerva. He chose this path and he chose it knowingly and willingly. When he and I first began plotting my demise, we agreed to keep you out of it for your safety. Neither of us stood much chance in surviving, I myself stood none, and Hogwarts desperately needed and needs you. It was not an action that either of us took lightly and it was not something he ever resented you for.”

“How can you know that?”

“I’ve known Severus for many years, much like yourself, and he is a complicated man. But when he allows himself to care for someone, he holds onto them with everything he has. He would never have risked you and throughout this past year he never held you accountable for your actions. We spoke many times this past year and never once did he express anything other than fondness for you.” A twinkle appeared in the old man’s eye. “Though he did often choose a few colorful names for you after the many occasions you came to berate the Carrows.”

Minerva smiled fondly. “I might have deserved a few of those. I’m not sure if I’ve forgiven you yet.”

“I’m not here to ask for that which I don’t deserve. I merely wished to keep you company on such a dark evening.”

Minerva nodded stiffly. Her eyes wandering shut as she and Albus shared a long companionable silence which stretched long into the night. Darkness had threatened the school on so many occasions the past few years, but never had it felt so oppressive as it did on the evening of the final funeral.

As always, Minerva McGonagall sat watch in her office, spreading what light she could out into the looming night.

***

Non-existent silent footsteps haunted her as she patrolled the corridors. These days Minerva spent her evening patrols half expecting Severus to stalk up behind her with some snarky remark or another. He may not have left behind a spectral form, but his ghost lingered around this old castle. Dogging her movements and entrancing her thoughts. It felt as if a piece of Hogwarts itself was missing. First Albus, now Severus. It was all too much for the tired Headmistress.  
  
Minerva had avoided the headmaster’s office, her new office, the entirety of the summer and the first couple of weeks back to school. Only going there when necessity dictated that she must. Otherwise she settled herself into her old accommodations. Having a transfiguration teacher who chose to live off campus made that an easy feat.  
  
It wasn't so much that she was afraid of entering the office, but there were so many painful memories therein, that so soon after the Battle of Hogwarts Minerva couldn't force herself to go in. Dumbledore's ghost haunted the room. Not in the literal sense, for the man would never have chosen such a fate after death, but tendrils of his memory clung to the space. She could still see his twinkling blue eyes staring at her when she looked at his desk, his unique interests in the array of oddities and instruments that surrounded the room, his sharp mind could still be heard if one stood close enough to the filled bookcases lining the walls. In short, she wasn't prepared to face the memory of her mentor her just yet. Especially considering that said mentor had kept her in the dark for so very long.  
  
Certainly he had discussed aspects of his life with her that he never would have shared with another. But his decision to keep Severus’s secrets hidden from her still burned. Dumbledore’s deceit meant that she had turned her back on an eighteen-year long friendship without hesitation. It meant that she had lost two of her dearest friends in the same instant. Dumbledore’s betrayal on that part was something she wasn't yet ready to forgive.  
  
And that took her to far more unpleasant thoughts. Severus spent the last year of his life believing everyone hated him. And he wasn't far off the mark. She'd been personally responsible for making certain his tenure as headmaster was as difficult a year as possible. She'd gone further to disrupt his authority then she'd gone with even Umbridge. All because she'd been so angry at herself for not seeing him as a traitor, sooner.  
  
Now such thoughts left her hollow.  
  
Walking around the room that Severus had spent so much time alone and trapped in felt completely wrong to head of Gryffindor. It didn't help that both headmasters that stirred these feelings within her had portraits currently displayed in said room. She wanted so badly to speak with Severus, but the old woman knew that his portrait would only be a shadow of the man he'd been. Pouring her heart out to his impression might make her feel better, but it wouldn't be real.  
  
Unfortunately, she longer had the luxury of avoiding the room. Her duties as Headmistress forced her hand. Meetings with Kingsley and the Board of Governors could not, reasonably, be held in her old office. It would both demean her position and their decision.

Which meant Minerva found herself walking past the gargoyle and facing the office door far sooner than she’d have liked. Hesitating at the door, she fortified herself and squared her shoulders. A proper Gryffindor, she pulled her bravery around her like armor and prepared herself for the onslaught of memories. The quiet voices of the many portraits within could be heard through the solid door. Those voices almost cost Minerva her resolve, but, as always, she soldiered on.

“Ah, Minerva,” Albus called from his place behind the desk. “Are you here to visit or to stay for good?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” she replied.

Try though she might to keep her gaze focused on Albus, Minerva’s eyes kept slipping around the room, searching for one portrait in particular. Her gaze stuttered over a portrait lingering close to Albus. Dark and gloomy, the portrait framed its centerpiece quite well. A gaunt faced man with pale skin and a hooked nose stared at her through locks of greasy black hair. The portrait did Severus quite a bit of justice, capturing his better aspects and allowing his dour personality to bleed through into reality. Minerva couldn’t have helped herself if she tried.

Her feet moved as if of their own accord until she stood in front of the portrait who gave her an all too familiar smirk.

“Severus,” she breathed.

“Minerva,” the painting answered in a voice she hadn’t heard for far too many months.

“I… This is rather odd,” she finally settled on.

The corner of his mouth quirked ever so slightly. “Yes, well try being a portrait and the we’ll talk about odd.”

“It’s a rather nice portrait,” said Minerva, “not sure what you’re complaining about.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh yes, because a nice portrait is usually defined as an ill-tempered professor with the complexion of a vampire and a background befitting a rather foreboding cave.”

“I think the background compliments you nicely. It really captures your charming personality. And you’re a sodding hero these days, no cares what your background looks like. They’ll be commissioning similar portraits to hang in their sitting rooms. A bit of a conversation piece.”

“No one would be foolish enough to hang my portrait in their sitting room. I’m far too opinionated for the common wizarding home.”

“And far too snarky for my taste. Perhaps they’ll leave you in the cellar then, much more accommodating for the bat of the dungeons.”

“Yes, I’d much prefer that. Any witch or wizard unfortunate enough to hang my portrait in their home would need a proper cellar.”

“Unfortunate? Did you miss the part where you’re a hero?”

The sneer for which he was so famous, twisted his face. “It’s insufferable isn’t it?”

“Perhaps for you, but there are those of us who believe you deserve the title.”

The all too familiar banter of a moment ago faded into the awkwardness of reality. This wasn’t really her Severus, just as Albus wasn’t truly Albus. They were simply paint on a bit of enchanted parchment. Objects enchanted with the memories and personalities of those who’d passed through the veil. This wasn’t real.

Almost as if he could read her mind like his once living counterpart, Severus’s face softened. “I’m not him, but I am at the same time. Same memories, same life, same rather endearing personality. And I’m forever grateful to call you a friend Minerva McGonagall. In this form and the other.”

The words she wanted to say stuck in her mouth. Glued to her tongue as the weight of her guilt held them down.

“Severus…. I…” she attempted.

“You don’t have to say anything, Minerva.”

“I do though…I’m so, so very sorry, for everything.” The rest of her words where lost in as tears she thought she’d spent long ago burst from her.

“You didn’t know,” the painting tried to comfort her. “You couldn’t possibly have known. I made certain of that.”

“I’ve known you since you were a boy,” she cried. “We’ve been friends for seventeen years. I should have seen past it.”

“It’s over Minerva and I’d forgive you but there’s nothing to forgive. You played the role I wanted you to play. And you played it well.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Minerva didn’t know how long she sat there, seeking reassurance and pouring her heart out to a bit of enchanted parchment, but afterwards she felt lighter. As if a weight she hadn’t known she carried had been lifted. At the end of it all, all was and would be well between the two old friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you, to everyone who has stuck with this story. It’s been so much fun and has gotten me through some stuff. Be prepared for a super emotional goodbye in the next chapter.  
> I really love all iterations of Severus and Lucius, but poor Sev needed a light moment this chapter and Lucius happened to be lurking. I had a lot of trouble getting through this behemoth of a chapter so if it seems repetitive or a bit off, I apologize. I had to post it.  
> Please let me know what you guys think and as always, I’ll see you in the last chapter!


	15. Old Habits Die Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we are. We’ve finally made it to this short but sweet ending! Enjoy and I’ll see you in the ending notes.

3 1/2ish years later.  
  
Minerva sat by the fire of the staff room consumed by her thoughts. Something had pulled her to the room this evening. For whatever reason, she couldn't shake the feeling that tonight of all nights she needed to be by the painfully familiar staff room fireplace.  
  
It's had taken her the better part of three years before she could return to this spot in the evenings. Too many painful memories of laughter and camaraderie filled the air of this room. The number of nights she and Severus had spent side by side sharing drinks in these chairs... Well they numbered too many to count. She had faced every new DADA professor and every new class of students with the sulking professor by her side. Without him here, it just felt empty.   
  
Sighing heavily Minerva ran a hand across her brow. She'd come to terms with that loss some time ago. It hadn't been easy, but she managed it. Having his portrait as well as Albus's portrait helped immensely. But still-  
  
A soft cough pulled the Headmistresses from her thoughts. Looking around the room she found herself alone. Puzzled, Minerva leaned back in her seat once more, certain that she'd merely imagined the sound.  
  
Until she heard it once more.  
  
"Minerva," an all too familiar voice called from a portrait hanging by the fireplace.  
  
"Severus," she gasped, startled at his sudden presence. "What are you dong in this part of the castle? Is something wrong."  
  
Minerva moved to stand before she'd so much as finished her question. But the placating hands of the painted Potions Master subdued her.  
  
"Nothing so serious. I..." Severus paused looking a little uncertain. "I don't know if you recall, but we have a date this evening."  
  
The sheer absurdity of the statement stalled her for so long that she noted the look of discomfort on Severus's face. But memories assailed her and a quick mental check told her he was correct. They did have a date.  
  
A warmth tinged with sadness spread through Minerva leaving a ridiculously large smile on her face. "Of course we do!"  
  
Severus visibly eased as he lounged against the frame of the portrait he'd waltzed into. "I know death probably absolved me of attending, but I could hardly stand up the love of my life."  
  
"I would have had to make you pay dearly for such an act," she quipped in return. "I know a few handy spells for altering portraits and I have always wondered what you'd look like with a goatee."  
  
Severus smiled as he propped a glass of amber liquid on a table he'd apparently swiped from someone else's painting.   
  
"The Fat Lady swears that this is without a doubt the stoutest stuff she owns," he drawled indicating his glass.  
  
"I happen to have a rather fine bottle of scotch from Madame Rosemertta that I've been saving for a special occasion."  
  
"This seems like the sort of event that would count."  
  
"Indeed it does."  
  
The evening passed much as they once had. The two professors drank and swapped stories of students they'd caught misbehaving or the latest gossip passing through the halls. It wasn't the same, nothing ever would be. But for Minerva it felt as if she'd finally come home after so many years away.  
  
At the end of it all, their oldest habit extended well past death itself. Many professors of later years would find Minerva conversing with the painting to right of the staff room fireplace on Friday nights. Until one day two portraits rested within the painting. Continuing to discuss and advise with the professors or students who lingered in the halls.   
  
And introducing a tried and true habit to every new professor who walked through the doors. After all there's little that a good friend and late night conversation couldn't solve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was a short epilogue that I couldn’t not add into this story. Hopefully, this makes up for the past like 7-8 chapters of angst and pain. I like to think that some relationships (especially this one) transcend even death, so I wanted to leave these two with something happy.  
> To all of you, thank you so much for sticking with me through this story. It took way longer than I ever expected it to, but it’s been such a wild ride. You guys have been far too kind with all your words of encouragement and praise. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and to everyone who has taken the time to tell me your thoughts. You guys are the reason I didn’t give up on this story a few months ago. These two characters are so dear to me and they basically write themselves, but it brings me no end of warm fuzzy feelings to see that all of you enjoy them as much as I do. I will post an alternate ending to this story at some point in the near future which will be about two chapters (if I behave and stick to my original intent), but you can also take my story In the End as an alternate. That being said, I hope to see you guys in the next story! Thanks again!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments/reviews below.


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